University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

The  Theodore  H.  Koundakjian 

Collection 
of  American  Humor 


Wm 


I 


A  '^^PJ 


GEORGIA 


IN  THE  FIRST  HALF  CENTURY  OF  THE  REPUBLIC. 


BY  A  NATIVE  GEORGIAN, 


\J 


sattfl  u.ota: 

PRINTED  AT  THE  S.  R.  SENTINEL  OFFICE. 
1835. 


Entered  in  the  Clerk's  Office  for  the  District  of 
Georgia,  in  conformity  to  the  act  of  Congress  to 
secure  copy  rights,  &c* 


PREFACE 


THE  following  sketches  were  written,  rather  in  the  hope  that 
chance  would  bring  them  to  light,  when  time  would  give  them  an 
interest,  than  in  the  belief  that  they  would  afford  any  interest  to  the 
readers  of  the  present  day.  I  knew,  however,  that  the  chance  of 
their  surviving  the  author,  would  be  increased  in  proportion  to  their 
popularity  upon  their  first  appearance;  and  therefore  I  used  some 
little  art  in  order  to  recommend  them  to  the  readers  of  my  own  times. 
They  consist  of  nothing  more  than  fanciful  combinations  of  real  inci 
dents  and  characters ;  and  throwing  into  those  scenes,  which  would 
be  otherwise  dull  and  insipid,  some  personal  incident  or  adventure  of 
my  own,  real  or  imaginary,  as  it  would  best  suit  my  purpose — usually 
real,  but  happening  at  different  times  and  under  different  circumstan 
ces  from  those  in  which  they  are  here  represented.  I  have  not  always, 
however,  taken  this  liberty.  Some  of  the  scenes  are  as  literally  true, 
as  the  frailties  of  memory  would  allow  them  to  be.  I  commenced 
the  publication  of  them,  in  one  of  the  gazettes  of  the  State,  rather 
more  than  a  year  ago ;  and  I  was  not  more  pleased  than  astonished, 
to  find  that  they  were  well  received  by  readers  generally.  For  the 
last  six  months,  I  have  been  importuned  by  persons  from  all  quarters 
of  the  State  to  give  them  to  the  public  in  the  present  form.  This 
volume  is  purely  a  concession  to  their  intreaties.  From  private  con 
siderations,  I  was  extremely  desirous  of  concealing  the  author,  and  the 
more  effectually  to  do  so,  I  wrote  under  two  signatures.  These  have 
now  become  too  closely  interwoven  with  the  sketches,  to  be  separated 
from  them,  without  an  expense  of  time  and  trouble  which  I  am  unwil 
ling  to  incur.  Hall  is  the  writer  of  those  sketches  in  which  men 
appear  as  the  principal  actors,  and  Baldwin  of  those  in  which  women. 
are  the  prominent  figures,  for  the  "  Company  Drill"  I  am  indebted 
to  a  friend,  of  whose  labors  I  would  gladly  have  availed  myself 


7J 


IV  PREFACE.  |.«  Y 

oftener.  The  reader  will  find  in  the  object  of  the  sketches,  an  apology 
for  the  minuteness  of  detail  inlo  which  some  of  them  run ;  and  for  the 
introduction  of  some  things  into  them,  which  would  have  been 
excluded,  were  they  merely  the  creations  of  fancy. 

I  have  not  had  it  in  my  power  to  superintend  the  publication  of 
them,  though  they  issue  from  a  press  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  my 
residence.  I  discovered,  that  if  the  work  was  delayed  until  I  could 
have  an  opportunity  of  examining  the  proof  sheets,  it  would  linger  in 
the  press,  until  the  expenses  (already  large)  would  become  intolerable. 
Consequently  there  may  be  many  typographical  errors  among  them, 
for  which  I  must  crave  the  reader's  indulgence. 

I  cannot  conclude  these  introductory  remarks,  without  reminding 
those  who  have  taken  exceptions  to  the  coarse,  inelegant,  and  some- 
times  ungrammatical  language,  which  the  writer  represents  himself 
a»  occasionally  using ;  that  it  is  language  accommodated  to  the  capa 
city  of  the  person  to  whom  he  represents  himself  as  speaking. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


GEORGIA  THEATRICS. 

If  my  memory  fail  me  not,  the  10th  of  June,  1809, 
found  me  at  about  1 1  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  ascending 
a  long  and  gentle  slope,  in  what  was  called  "  The  Dark 
Corner "  of  Lincoln.  I  believe  it  took  its  name  from 
the  moral  darkness,  which  reigned  over  that  portion  of 
the  county,  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking.  If  in 
this  point  of  view,  it  was  but  a  shade  darker  than  the 
rest  of  the  county,  it  was  inconceivably  dark.  If  any 
man  can  name  a  trick,  or  sin,  which  had  not  been  com 
mitted  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking,  in  the  very 
focus  of  all  the  county's  illumination,  (Lincointon)  he 
must  himself  be  the  most  inventive  of  the  tricky,  and  the 
very  Judas  of  sinners.  Since  that  time,  however,  (all 
humor  aside)  Lincoln  has  become  a  living  proof  "that 
light  shineth  in  darkness."  Could  I  venture  to  mingle 
the  solemn  with  the  ludicrous,  even  for  the  purposes  of 
honorable  contrast,  I  could  adduce  from  this  county  in 
stances  of  the  most  numerous  and  wonderful  transitions, 
from  vice  and  folly,  to  virtue  and  holiness,  which  have 
ever  perhaps  been  witnessed  since  the  days  of  the  apos 
tolic  ministry.  So  much,  lest  it  should  be  thought  by 
some,  that  what  I  am  about  to  relate,  is  characteristic  of 
the  county  in  which  it  occurred. 

Whatever  may  be  said  of  the  moral  condition  of  the 
Dark  Corner,  at  the  time  just  mentioned,  its  natural  con 
dition  was  any  thing  but  dark.  It  smiled  in  all  the 
charms  of  spring ;  and  spring  borrowed  a  new  charm 
from  its  undulating  grounds,  its  luxuriant  woodlands,  its 


6  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

sportive  streams,  its  vocal  birds,  and  its  blushing  flowers. 

Rapt  with  the  enchantment  of  the  season,  and  the 
scenery  around  me,  I  was  slowly  rising  the  slope,  when 
I  was  startled  by  loud,  profane  and  boisterous  voices, 
which  seemed  to  proceed  from  a  thick  covert  of  under 
growth,  about  two  hundred  yards  in  the  advance  of  me, 
and  about  one  hundred  to  the  right  of  my  road. 

"  You  kin,  kin  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  kin,  and  am  able  to  do  it !  Boo-oo-oo !  Oh, 
wake  snakes,  and  walk  your  chalks !  Brimstone  and 

fire  !  Don't  hold  me,  Nick  Stoval !  The  fight 's 

made  up  and  let's  go  at  it.  my  soul,  if  I  don't 

jump  down  his  throat  and  gallop  every  chitterling  out  of 
him,  before  you  can  say  *  quit '!" 

"  Now,  Nick,  don't  hold  him !  Jist  let  the  wild-cat 
come,  and  I'll  tame  him.  Ned  '11  see  me  a  fair  fight — 
won't  you,  Ned  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I'll  see  you  a  fair  fight,  blast  my  old  shoes 
if  I  don't." 

"  That's  sufficient,  as  Tom  Haynes  said  when  he  saw 
the  Elephant.  Now  let  him  come." 

Thus  they  went  on,  with  countless  oaths  interspersed, 
which  I  dare  not  even  hint  at,  and  with  much  that  I  could 
not  distinctly  hear. 

In  Mercy's  name  !  thought  I,  what  band  of  ruffians 
has  selected  this  holy  season,  and  this  heavenly  retreat, 
for  such  Pandaemonian  riots !  I  quickened  my  gait,  and 
had  come  nearly  opposite  to  the  thick  grove  whence  the 
noise  proceeded,  when  my  eye  caught  indistinctly,  and 
at  intervals,  through  the  foliage  of  the  dwarf-oaks  and 
hickories  which  intervened,  glimpses  of  a  man,  or  men, 
who  seemed  to  be  in  a  violent  struggle  ;  and  I  could 
occasionally  catch  those  deep  drawn,  emphatic  oaths, 
which  men  in  conflict  utter,  when  they  deal  blows.  I 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  7 

dismounted,  and  hurried  to  the  spot  with  all  speed.  1 
had  overcome  about  half  the  space  which  separated  it 
from  me,  when  I  saw  the  combatants  come  to  the  ground, 
and  after  a  short  struggle,  I  saw  the  uppermost  one  (for 
I  could  not  see  the  other)  make  a  heavy  plunge  with 
both  his  thumbs,  and  at  the  same  instant  I  heard  a  cry 
in  the  accent  of  keenest  torture,  "  Enough !"  My 
eye's  out !" 

I  was  so  completely  horror-struck,  that  I  stood  trans 
fixed  for  a  moment  to  the  spot  where  the  cry  met  me. 
The  accomplices  in  the  hellish  deed  which  had  been 
perpetrated,  had  all  fled  at  my  approach — at  least  I 
supposed  so,  for  they  were  not  to  be  seen. 

"  Now,  blast  your  corn-shucking  soul,"  said  the  victor, 
(a  youth  about  eighteen  years  old)  as  he  rose  from  the 
ground,  "  come  cutt'n  your  shines  Jbout  me  agin,  next 
time  I  come  to  the  Court-House,  will  you !  Get  your 
owl-eye  in  agin  if  you  can  !" 

At  this  moment  he  saw  me  for  the  first  time.  He 
looked  excessively  embarrassed,  and  was  moving  off, 
when  I  called  to  him,  in  a  tone,  emboldened  by  the 
sacredness  of  my  office,  and  the  iniquity  of  his  crime, 
"  Come  back,  you  brute !  and  assist  me  in  relieving 
your  fellow  mortal,  whom  you  have  ruined  forever !" 

My  rudeness  subdued  his  embarrassment  in  an  instant  ; 
and  with  a  taunting  curl  of  the  nose,  he  replied  "  you 
need  n't  kick  before  you're  spur'd.  There  a'nt  nobody 
there,  nor  ha'nt  been  nother.  I  was  jist  seein'  how  I 
could  'a'  font."  So  saying,  he  bounded  to  his  plough, 
which  stood  in  the  corner  of  the  fence  about  fifty  yards 
beyond  the  battle  ground. 

And  would  you  believe  it,  gentle  reader !  his  report 
was  true.  All  that  1  had  heard  and  seen,  was  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  Lincoln  rehearsal ;  in  which  the 


8  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

youth  who  had  just  left  me,  had  played  all  the  parts,  of 
all  the  characters,  in  a  Court-House  fight. 

I  went  to  the  ground  from  which  Ire  had  risen ;  and 
there  were  the  prints  of  his  two  thumbs,  plunged  up  to 
the  balls  in  the  mellow  earth,  about  the  distance  of  a 
man's  eyes  apart ;  and  the  ground  around  was  broken 
up,  as  if  two  Stags  had  been  engaged  upon  it. 

HALL. 


THE  DANCE. 

A  PERSONAL  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

Some  years  ago,  I  was  called  by  business  to  one  of 
the  frontier  counties,  then  but  recently  settled.  It  became 
necessary  for  me,  while  there,  to  enlist  the  services  of 
Thomas  Gibson,  Esq.,  one  of  the  magistrates  of  the 
county,  who  resided  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  my 
lodgings ;  and  to  this  circumstance  was  I  indebted  for 
my  introduction  to  him.  I  had  made  the  intended  dispo 
sition  of  my  business,  and  was  on  the  eve  of  my  departure 
to  the  city  of  my  residence,  when  I  was  induced  to  remain 
a  day  longer,  by  an  invitation  from  the  Squire,  to  attend 
a  dance  at  his  house  on  the  following  day.  Having  learn 
ed  from  my  landlord  that  I  would  probably  "  be  expect 
ed  at  the  frolick  "  about  the  hour  of  10  in  the  forenoon, 
and  being  desirous  of  seeing  all  that  passed  upon  the 
occasion,  I  went  over  about  an  hour  before  the  time. 

The  Squire's  dwelling  consisted  of  but  one  room  ; 
which  answered  the  three-fold  purpose,  of  dining  room, 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  9 

bed  room,  and  kitchen.  The  house  was  constructed  of 
logs,  and  the  floor  was  of  puncheons — a  term,  which  in 
Georgia,  means  split  logs,  with  their  faces  a  little  smothed 
with  the  axe  or  hatchet.  To  gratify  his  daughters,  Polly 
and  Silvy,  the  old  gentleman  and  his  lady,  had  consented 
to  camp  out  for  a  day,  and  to  surrender  the  habitation  to 
the  girls  and  their  young  friends. 

When  I  reached  there,  I  found  all  things  in  readiness 
for  the  promised  amusement.  The  girls,  as  the  old  gen- 
tleman  informed  me,  had  compelled  the  family  to  breakfast 
under  the  trees,  for  they  had  completely  stript  the  house 
of  its  furniture  before  the  sun  rose.  They  were  already 
attired  for  the  dance,  in  neat,  but  plain  habiliments,  of 
their  own  manufacture.  "What!"  says  some  weakly, 
sickly,  delicate,  useless,  affected,  "  charming  creature," 
of  the  city,  "  dressed  for  a  Ball  at  9  in  the  morning !" 
Even  so,  my  delectable  Miss  Octavia  Matilda  Juliana 
Claudia  Ipecacuanha :  and  what  have  you  to  say  against 
it  ?  If  people  must  dance,  is  it  not  much  more  rational, 
to  employ  the  hour  allotted  to  exercise  in  that  amusement, 
than  the  hours  sacred  to  repose  and  meditation  ?  And 
which  is  entitled  to  the  most  credit ;  the  young  lady  who 
rises  with  the  dawn,  and  puts  herself  and  whole  house 
in  order  for  a  Ball,  four  hours  before  it  begins ;  or  the 
one  who  requires  a  fortnight  to  get  herself  dressed  for  it? 

The  Squire  and  I  employed  the  interval  in  conversation 
about  the  first  settlement  of  the  country ;  in  the  course 
of  which,  I  picked  up  some  useful,  and  much  interesting 
information.  We  were  at  length  interrupted,  however, 
by  the  sound  of  a  violin,  which  proceeded  from  a  thick 
wood  at  my  left.  The  performer  soon  after  made  his 
appearance,  and  proved  to  be  no  other  than  Billy  Porter, 
a  negro  fellow  of  much  harmless  wit  and  humor,  who 
was  well  known  throughout  the  State.  Poor  Billy  !  "  his 


10  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C, 

harp  is  now  hung  upon  the  willow  " — and  I  would  not 
blush  to  offer  a  tear  to  his  memory,  for  his  name  is  asso 
ciated  with  some  of  the  happiest  scenes  of  my  life,  and 
he  sleeps  with  many  a  dear  friend,  who  used  to  join  me  in 
provoking  his  wit,  and  in  laughing  at  his  excentricities — 
but  I  am  leading  my  reader  to  the  grave,  instead  of  the 
dance,  which  I  promised.  If,  however,  his  memory 
reaches  twelve  years  back,  he  will  excuse  this  short 
tribute  of  respect  to  BILLY  PORTER. 

Billy,  to  give  his  own  account  of  himself,  "  had  been 
taking  a  turn  with  the  brethren,  (the  Bar)  ;  and  hearing 
the  ladies  wanted  to  see  pretty  Billy,  had  come  to  give 
them  a  benefit."  The  Squire  had  not  seen  him  before  ; 
and  it  is  no  disrespect  to  his  understanding  or  politeness, 
to  say,  that  he  found  it  impossible  to  give  me  his  attentioa 
for  half  an  hour  after  Billy  arrived.  I  had  nothing  to 
do,  therefore,  while  the  young  people  were  assembling, 
but  to  improve  my  knowledge  of  Billy's  character,  to 
the  Squire's  amusement.  I  had  been  thus  engaged  about 
thirty  minutes,  when  I  saw  several  fine,  bouncing,  ruddy 
cheeked  girls,  descending  a  hill,  about  the  eighth  of  a 
mile  off.  They,  too,  were  attired  in  manufactures  of 
their  own  hands.  The  refinements  of  the  present  day 
in  female  dress,  had  not  even  reached  our  republican 
cities  at  this  time ;  and  of  course,  the  country  girls  were 
wholly  ignorant  of  them.  They  carried  no  more  cloth 
upon  their  arms,  or  straw  upon  their  heads,  than  was 
necessary  to  cover  them.  They  used  no  artificial  means 
of  spreading  their  frock  tails,  to  an  interesting  extent 
from  their  ankles.  They  had  no  boards  laced  to  their 
breasts,  nor  any  corsets  laced  to  their  sides ;  consequent 
ly,  they  looked,  for  all  the  world,  like  human  beings, 
and  could  be  distinctly  recognized  as  such,  at  the  distance 
of  two  hundred  paces.  Their  movements  were  as  free 
and  active,  as  nature  would  permit  them  to  be.  Let  me 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  11 

not  be  understood,  as  interposing  the  least  objection,  to 
any  lady  in  this  land  of  liberty,  dressing  just  as  she 
pleases.  If  she  choose  to  lay  her  neck  and  shoulders 
bare,  what  right  have  I  to  look  at  them  ?  much  less  to 
find  fault  with  them.  If  she  choose  to  put  three  yards 
of  muslin  in  a  frock  sleeve ;  what  right  have  I  to  ask, 
why  a  little  strip  of  it,  was  not  put  in  the  body  ?  If  she 
like  the  pattern  of  a  hoisted  umbrella  for  a  frock,  and 
the  shape  of  a  cheese-cask  for  her  body ;  what  is  all 
that  to  me  ?  But  to  return. 

The  girls  were  met  by  Polly  and  Silvy  Gibson,  at 
some  distance  from  the  house ;  who  welcomed  them — 
"  with  a  kiss,  of  course  " — Oh,  no ;  but  with  something 
much  less  equivocal :  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand  and 
smiling  countenances,  which  had  some  meaning. 

[Note. — The  custom  of  kissing,  as  practised  in  these 
days  by  the  amiables,  is  borrowed  from  the  French ; 
and  by  them  from  Judas.] 

The  young  ladies  had  generally  collected  before  any 
of  the  young  men  appeared.  It  was  not  long,  however, 
before  a  large  number  of  both  sexes  were  assembled ; 
and  they  adjourned  to  the  Ball  room. 

But  for  the  snapping  of  a  fiddle  string,  the  young 
people  would  have  been  engaged  in  the  amusement  of 
the  day,  in  less  than  three  minutes  from  the  time  they 
entered  the  house.  Here,  were  no  formal  introductions 
to  be  given,  no  drawing  for  places  or  partners,  no  parade 
of  managers,  no  ceremonies.  It  was  perfectly  under- 
stood  that  all  were  invited  to  dance,  and  that  none  were 
invited  who  were  unworthy  to  be  danced  with  ;  conse 
quently,  no  gentleman  hesitated  to  ask  any  lady  present 
to  dance  with  him,  and  no  lady  refused  to  dance  with  a 
gentleman,  merely  because  she  had  not  been  made  ac 
quainted  with  him. 


12 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  tcC. 


In  a  short  time  the  string  was  repaired,  and  off  went 
the  party  to  a  good  old  republican  six  reel.  I  had  been 
thrown  among  fashionables  so  long,  that  I  had  almost 
forgotten  my  native  dance.  But  it  revived  rapidly  as 
they  wheeled  through  its  mazes  ;  and  with  it  returned, 
many  long  forgotten,  pleasing  recollections.  Not  only 
did  the  reel  return  to  me,  but  the  very  persons  who  used 
to  figure  in  it  with  me,  in  the  hey-day  of  youth. 

Here  was  my  old  sweet-heart,  Polly  Jackson,  identi 
cally  personified  in  Polly  Gibson ;  and  here  was  Jim 
Johnson's,  in  Silvy ;  and  Bill  Martin's,  in  Nancy  Ware. 
Polly  Gibson  had  my  old  flame's  very  steps  as  well  as 
her  looks.  "Ah!"  said  I,  "Squire,  this  puts  me  in 
mind  of  old  times.  I  have  not  seen  a  six  reel  for  five 
and  twenty  years.  It  recalls  to  my  mind  many  a  happy 
hour,  and  many  a  jovial  friend,  who  used  to  enliven  it 
with  me.  Your  Polly,  looks  so  much  like  my  old  sweet 
heart,  Polly  Jackson,  that  were  I  young  again,  I  certainly 
should  fall  in  love  with  her."  "  That  was  the  name  of 
her  mother,"  said  the  Squire.  "  Where  did  you  marry 
her  ?"  enquired  I.  "  In  Wilkes,"  said  he — "  she  was 
the  daughter  of  old  Nathan  Jackson  of  that  county." 
"It  is  n't  possible !"  returned  I.  Then  it  is  the  very 
girl  of  whom  I  am  speaking.  "  Where  is  she  ?"  "  She's 
out,"  said  the  Squire,  "  preparing  dinner  for  the  young 
people  ;  but  she'll  be  in  towards  the  close  of  the  day. 
But  come  along,  and  I'll  make  you  acquainted  with  her 
at  once,  if  you'll  promise  not  to  run  away  with  her,  for 
I  tell  you  what  it  is,  she's  the  likeliest  gal  in  all  these 
parts,  yet."  "Well,"  said  I,  " I'll  promise  not  to  run 
away  with  her,  but  you  must  not  let  her  know  who  I  am, 
I  wish  to  make  myself  known  to  her  ;  and  for  fear  of 
the  worst,  you  shall  witness  the  introduction.  But  don't 
get  jealous,  Squire,  if  she  seems  a  little  too  glad  to  sec 
me ;  for  I  assure  you,  we  had  a  strong  notion  of  each 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  13 

other,  when  we  were  young."  "  No  danger,"  replied 
the  Squire,  "  she  had  n't  seen  me  then,  or  she  never 
could  have  loved  such  a  hard  favored  man  as  you  are." 

In  the  mean  time  the  dance  went  on,  and  I  employed 
myself  in  selecting  from  the  party,  the  best  examples  of 
the  dancers  of  my  day  and  Mrs.  Gibson's,  for  her  enter- 
tainment.  In  this,  I  had  not  the  least  difficulty  ;  for  the 
dancers  before  me,  and  those  of  my  day,  were  in  all  res 
pects  identical. 

Jim  Johnson  kept  up  the  double  shuffle  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end  of  the  reel :  and  here  was  Jim  over 
again  in  Sammy  Tant.  Bill  Martin  always  set  to  his 
partner  with  the  same  step — and  a  very  curious  step  it 
was. — He  brought  his  right  foot  close  behind  his  left,  and 
with  it  performed  precisely  the  motion  of  the  thumb  in 
cracking  that  insect  which  Burns  has  immortalized  ;  then 
moved  his  right  back,  threw  his  weight  upon  it,  brought 
his  left  behind  it,  and  cracked  with  that  as  before  ;  and 
so  on  alternately.  Just  so  did  Bill  Kemp,  to  a  nail. 
Bob  Simons  danced  for  all  the  world  like  a  "Suple 
Jack,"  (or  as  we  commonly  call  it,  a  "  Suple  Sawney,") 
when  the  string  is  pulled  with  varied  force,  at  intervals 
of  seconds :  and  so  did  Jake  Slack.  Davy  Moore,  went 
like  a  suit  of  clothes  upon  a  clothing  line  on  a  windy 
day  :  and  here  was  his  antitype  in  Ned  Clarke.  Rhoda 
Nobles  swam  through  the  reel  like  a  cork  on  wavy 
waters  ;  always  giving  two  or  three  pretty  little  perch- 
bite  diddles,  as  she  rose  from  a  coupee — Nancy  Ware 
was  her  very  self.  Becky  Lewis  made  a  business  of 
dancing ;  she  disposed  of  her  part  as  quick  as  possible, 
stopt  dead  short  as  soon  as  she  got  through,  and  looked 
as  sober  as  a  Judge  all  the  time — Even  so  did  Chloe 
Dawson.  I  used  to  tell  Polly  Jackson,  that  Becky's 
countenance,  when  she  closed  a  dance,  always  seemed 


14  GEORGIA  SCENES,  kC. 

to  say,  "  now  if  you  want  any  more  dancing,  you  may 
do  it  yourself." 

The  dance  grew  merrier  as  it  progressed  ;  the  young 
people  became  more  easy  in  each  other's  company,  and 
often  enlivened  the  scene  with  most  humorous  remarks. 
Occasionally  some  sharp  cuts  passed  between  the  boys ; 
such  as  would  have  produced  a  half  dozen  duels  at  a 
city  ball ;  but  here  they  were  taken  as  they  were  meant, 
in  good  humor.  Jim  Johnson  being  a  little  tardy  in 
meeting  his  partner  at  a  turn  of  the  reel,  "  I  ax  pardon 
Miss  Chloe,"  said  he,  "  Jake  Slack  went  to  make  a  cross- 
hop  just  now,  and  'tied  his  legs  in  a  hard  knot,  and  I 
stop't  to  help  him  untie  them."  A  little  after,  Jake  hung 
his  toe  in  a  crack  of  the  floor,  and  nearly  fell ;  "  Ding 
my  buttons,"  said  he,  "  if  I  did'nt  know  I  should  stum- 
ble  over  Jim  Johnson's  foot  at  last ;  Jim,  draw  your  foot 
up  to  your  own  end  of  the  reel."  (Jim  was  at  the  other 
end  of  the  reel,  and  had  in  truth  a  prodigious  foot.) 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  day,  many  of  the  neigh 
boring  farmers  dropped  in,  and  joined  the  Squire  and 
myself  in  talking  of  old  times.  At  length  dinner  was 
announced.  It  consisted  of  plain  fare,  but  there  was  a 
profusion  of  it.  Rough  planks,  supported  by  stakes 
driven  in  the  ground,  served  for  a  table ;  at  which  the 
old  and  young  of  both  sexes  seated  themselves  at  the 
same  time.  I  soon  recognized  Mrs.  Gibson  from  all  the 
matrons  present.  Thirty  years  had  wrought  great  changes 
in  her  appearance ;  but  they  had  left  some  of  her  fea 
tures  entirely  unimpaired.  Her  eye  beamed  with  all  its 
youthful  fire ;  and  to  my  astonishment,  her  mouth  was 
still  beautified  with  a  full  set  of  teeth,  unblemished  by 
time.  The  rose  on  her  cheek  had  rather  freshened  than 
faded,  and  her  smile  was  the  very  same  that  first  subdued 
my  heart ;  but  her  fine  form  was  wholly  lost ;  and  with 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  15 

it,  all  the  grace  of  her  movements.  Pleasing,  but  mel 
ancholy  reflections  occupied  my  mind,  as  I  gazed  on  her, 
dispensing  her  cheerful  hospitalities.  I  thought,  of  the 
sad  history  of  many  of  her  companions  and  mine,  who 
used  to  carry  light  hearts  through  the  merry  dance.  I 
compared  my  after  life  with  the  cloudless  days  of  my 
attachment  to  Polly.  Then,  I  was  light  hearted,  gay, 
contented  and  happy.  I  aspired  to  nothing  but  a  good 
name,  a  good  wife,  and  an  easy  competency.  The  first 
and  last  were  mine  already  ;  and  Polly  had  given  me  too 
many  little  tokens  of  her  favor,  to  leave  a  doubt  now, 
that  the  second  was  at  my  command.  But  I  was  foolish 
ly  told,  that  my  talents  were  of  too  high  an  order  to  be 
employed  in  the  drudgeries  of  a  farm,  and  I  more  fool 
ishly  believed  it.  I  forsook  the  pleasures  which  I  had 
tried  and  proved,  and  went  in  pursuit  of  those  imaginary 
joys,  which  seemed  to  encircle  the  seat  of  Fame.  From 
that  moment  to  the  present,  my  life  had  been  little  else 
than  one  unbroken  scene  of  disaster,  disappointment, 
vexation  and  toil.  And  now,  when  I  was  too  old  to  enjoy 
the  pleasures  which  I  had  discarded,  I  found  that  my  aim 
was  absolutely  hopeless  ;  and  that  my  pursuits  had  only 
served  to  unfit  me  for  the  humbler  walks  of  life,  and  to 
exclude  me  from  the  higher.  The  gloom  of  these  re 
flections  was,  however,  lighted  in  a  measure,  by  the 
promises  of  the  coming  hour,  when  I  was  to  live  over 
again  with  Mrs.  Gibson,  some  of  the  happiest  moments 
of  my  life. 

After  a  hasty  repast,  the  young  people  returned  to 
their  amusement ;  followed  by  myself,  with  several  of 
the  elders  of  the  company.  An  hour  had  scarcely  elapsed, 
before  Mrs.  Gibson  entered,  accompanied  by  a  goodly 
number  of  matrons  of  her  own  age.  This  accession  to 
the  company  produced  its  usual  effects.  It  raised  the 
tone  of  conversation  a  full  octave,  and  gave  it  a  tripple 


16  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

time  movement ;  added  new  life  to  the  wit  and  limbs  of 
the  young  folks,  and  set  the  old  men  to  cracking  jokes. 

At  length  the  time  arrived  for  me  to  surprise  and  de 
light  Mrs.  Gibson.  The  young  people  insisted  upon  the 
old  folks  taking  a  reel ;  and  this  was  just  what  I  had  been 
waiting  for ;  for  after  many  plans  for  making  the  discov 
ery,  I  had  finally  concluded  upon  that,  which  I  thought 
would  make  her  joy,  general  among  the  company :  and 
that  was,  to  announce  myself,  just  before  leading  her  to 
the  dance,  in  a  voice  audible  to  most  of  the  assembly. 
I  therefore  readily  assented  to  the  proposition  of  the 
young  folks,  as  did  two  others  of  my  age,  and  we  made 
to  the  ladies  for  our  partners.  I  of  course  offered  my 
hand  to  Mrs.  Gibson. 

"  Come,"  said  I,  "  Mrs.  Gibson,  let  us  try  if  we  can't 
out  dance  these  young  people." 

"  Dear  me,  Sir,"  said  she,  "  I  haven't  danced  a  step 
these  twenty  years." 

"  Neither  have  I,  but  I've  resolved  to  try  once  more, 
if  you  will  join  me,  just  for  old  time's  sake." 

"  I  really  cannot  think  of  dancing,"  said  she. 

"  Well,"  continued  I,  (raising  my  voice  to  a  pretty 
high  pitch,  on  purpose  to  be  heard,  while  my  countenance 
kindled  with  exultation  at  the  astonishment  and  delight 
which  I  was  about  to  produce,)  "you  surely  will  dance 
with  an  old  friend  and  sweet-heart,  who  used  to  dance 
with  you  when  a  girl." 

At  this  disclosure,  her  features  assumed  a  vast  variety 
of  expressions  ;  but  none  of  them  responded  precisely  to 
my  expectation  :  indeed,  some  of  them  were  of  such 
an  equivocal  and  alarming  character,  that  I  deemed  it 
advisable  not  to  prolong  her  suspense.  I  therefore  pro- 
ceeded. 

"  Have  you  forgot  your  old  sweet-heart,  Abram  Bald- 
win?"  "What!"  said  she,  looking  more  astonished 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  17 

'and  confused  than  ever.     "  Abram  Baldwin !"  "  Abram 
Baldwin !"  "I  don't  think  I  ever  heard  the  name  before." 

"  Do  you  remember  Jim  Johnson  ?"  said  I. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  she,  "mighty  well ;"  her  countenance 
brightening  with  a  smile. 

"And  Bill  Martin?" 

"  Yes,  perfectly  well — why,  who  are  you  ?" 

Here  we  were  interrupted  by  one  of  the  gentlemen 
who  had  led  his  partner  to  the  floor,  with  "  come  strang 
er,  we're  getting  mighty  tired  o'  standing."  "It  won't 
do  for  old  people  that's  going  to  dance,  to  take  up  much 
time  in  standing ;  they'll  lose  all  their  spryness.  Don't 
stand  begging  Polly  Gibson,  she  never  dances ;  but  take 
my  Sal  there  next  to  her,  she'll  run  a  reel  with  you,  to 
old  Nick's  house  and  back  agin."  No  alternative  was 
left  me,  and  therefore  I  offered  my  hand  to  Mrs.  Sally — 
I  didn't  know  who.  "  Well,"  thought  I,  as  I  moved  to 
my  place,  "  the  Squire  is  pretty  secure  from  jealousy  ; 
but  Polly  will  soon  remember  me  when  she  sees  my  steps 
in  the  reel.  I  will  dance  precisely  as  I  used  to  in  my% 
youth,  if  it  tire  me  to  death.  There  was  one  step  that 
was  almost  exclusively  my  own,  for  few  of  the  dancers 
of  my  day  could  perform  it  at  all,  and  none  with  the 
grace  and  ease  that  I  did.  "  She'll  remember  Abram 
Baldwin,"  thought  I,  "as  soon  as  she  sees  the  double 
cros-shop."  It  was  performed  by  rising  and  crossing  the 
legs  twice  or  thrice  before  lighting,  and  I  used  to  carry 
it  to  the  third  cross  with  considerable  ease.  It  was  a 
step  solely  adapted  to  setting  or  ballancing,  as  all  will 
perceive ;  but  I  thought  the  occasion  would  justify  a 
little  perversion  of  it,  and  therefore  resolved  to  lead  off 
with  it,  that  Polly  might  be  at  once  relieved  from  suspense. 
Just  however  as  I  reached  my  place,  Mrs.  Gibson's 
youngest  son,  a  boy  about  eight  years  old,  ran  in  and 
b 


18  GEORGIA    SCENE?,   &C. 

cried  out,  "Mammy,  old  Boler's  jumpt  upon  the  planks 
and  dragg'd  off  a  great  hunk  o'  meat  as  big  as  your 
head,'  and  broke  a  dish  and  two  plates  all  to  durn  smash- 
es  !"  Away  went  Mrs.  Gibson,  and  at  the  same  instant, 
off  v/ent  the  music.  Still  I  hoped  that  matters  would  be 
adjusted  in  time  for  Polly  to  return  and  see  the  double 
cross  hop ;  and  I  felt  the  mortification  which  my 
delay  in  getting  a  partner  had  occasioned,  somewhat 
solaced  by  the  reflection,  that  it  had  thrown  me  at  the 
foot  of  the  reel. 

The  first  and  second  couples  had  nearly  completed 
their  performances,  and  Polly  had  not  returned.  I  began 
to  grow  uneasy  and  to  interpose  as  many  delays  as  I 
could,  without  attracting  notice. 

The  six  reel  is  closed  by  the  foot  couple  balancing  at 
the  head  of  the  set — then  in  the  middle — then  at  the  foot 
— again  in  the  middle — meeting  at  the  head,  and  leading 
down. 

My  partner  and  I  had  commenced  balancing  at  the 
head — and  Polly  had  not  returned.  I  balanced  until  my 
» partner  forced  me  on.  I  now  deemed  it  advisable  to  give 
myself  up  wholly  to  the  double  cross  hop ;  so  that  if 
Polly  should  return  in  time  to  see  any  step,  it  should  be 
this  ;  though  I  was  already  nearly  exhausted.  Accord 
ingly  I  made  the  attempt  to  introduce  it  in  the  turns  of  the 
reel ;  but  the  first  experiment  convinced  me  of  three 
things  at  once — 1st.  That  I  could  not  have  used  the  step 
in  this  way  in  my  best  days — 2d.  That  my  strength 
would  not  more  than  support  it  in  its  proper  place  for  the 
remainder  of  the  reel,  and — 3d.  If  I  tried  it  again  in 
this  way,  I  should  knock  my  brains  out  against  the  punch 
eons  ;  for  my  partner  who  seemed  determined  to  confirm 
her  husband's  report  of  her,  evinced  no  disposition  to 
wait  upon  experiments ;  but  fetching  me  a  jirk  while  I 


GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C,  19 

was  up,  and  my  legs  crossed,  had  well  nigh  sent  me  head 
foremost  to  Old  Nick's  house,  sure  enough. 

We  met  in  the  middle,  my  back  to  the  door,  and  from 
the  silence  that  prevailed  in  the  yard,  I  flattered  myself 
that  Polly  might  be  even  now  catching  the  first  glimpse 
of  the  favorite  step,  when  I  heard  her  voice  at  some 
distance  from  the  house — "  Get  you  gone  !"  "  G-e-e-e-t 
you  gone !"  "  G-e-e-e-e-e-t  you  gone !"  Matters  out 
doors  were  now  clearly  explained.  There  had  been 
a  struggle  to  get  the  meat  from  Boler — Boler  had  tri 
umphed,  and  retreated  to  the  woods  with  his  booty,  and 
Mrs.  Gibson  w'as  heaping  indignities  upon  him  in  the 
last  resort. 

The  three  "  Get.you-gones  "  met  me  precisely  at  the 
three  closing  balances  ;  and  the  last,  brought  my  moral 
energies  to  a  perfect  level  with  my  physical. 

Mrs.  Gibson  returned,  however,  in  a  few  minutes  after, 
in  a  good  humor ;  for  she  possessed  a  lovely  disposition, 
which  even  marriage  could  not  spoil.  As  soon  as  I 
could  collect  breath  enough  for  regular  conversation 
(for  to  speak  in  my  native  dialect,  I  was  "mortal 
tired ")  I  took  a  seat  by  her,  resolved  not  to  quit  the 
house  without  making  myself  known  to  her,  if  possible. 

"  How  much  "  said  I,  "  your  Polly  looks,  and  dances 
like  you  used  to,  at  her  age." 

"  I've  told  my  old  man  so  a  hundred  times  "  said  she. 
"  Why,  who  upon  earth  are  you  !" 

"  Did  you  ever  see  two  persons  dance  more  alike  than 
Jim  Johnson  and  Sammy  Tant  ?"  "  Never — Why  who 
can  you  be !" 

"  You  remember  Becky  Lewis  ?"     "  Yes !" 

"  Well,  look  at  Chloe  Dawson,  and  you'll  see  her  over 
again." 


20  GEORGIA    SCENES,  kC. 

••Well,  law  me!  Now  I  know  I  must  have  seen 
you  somewhere ;  but  to  save  my  life  I  can't  tell  where 
— Where  did  your  father  live  ?" 

"  He  died  when  I  was  small." 

"  And  where  did  you  use  to  see  me  ?" 

"  At  your  father's,  and  old  Mr.  Dawson's,  and  at  Mrs. 
Barnes',  and  at  Squire  Nobles',  and  many  other  places." 

"  Well  goodness  me !  its  mighty  strange  I  can't  call 
you  to  mind." 

I  now  began  to  get  petulent,  and  thought  it  best  to 
leave  her. 

The  dance  wound  up  with  the  old  merry  jig ;  and 
the  company  dispersed. 

The  next  day  I  set  out  for  my  residence.  I  had  been 
at  home  rather  more  than  two  months,  when  I  received 
the  following  letter  from  Squire  Gibson. 

"  DEAR  SIR  : — I  send  you  the  money  collected  on  the 
notes  you  left  with  me.  Since  you  left  here,  Polly  has 
been  thinking  about  old  times,  and  she  says,  to  save  her 
life  she  can't  recollect  you." 

BALDWIN. 


THK  HORSE  SWAP. 

During  the  session  of  the  Superior  Court,  in  the  village 

of ,  about  three  weeks  ago,  when  a  number  of 

people  were  collected  in  the  principal  street  of  the  vil 
lage,  I  observed  a  young  man  riding  up  and  down  the 
street,  as  I  supposed,  in  a  violent  passion.  He  galloped 
this  way,  then  that,  and  then  the  other.  Spurred  his 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  21 

horse  to  one  group  of  citizens,  then  to  another.  Then 
dashed  off  at  half  speed,  as  if  fleeing  from  danger  ; 
and  suddenly  checking  his  horse,  returned — first  in  a 
pace,  then  in  a  trot,  and  then  in  a  canter.  While  he 
was  performing  these  various  evolutions,  he  cursed,  swore, 
whooped,  screamed,  and  tossed  himself  in  every  attitude 
which  man  could  assume  on  horse  back.  In  short,  he 
cavorted  most  magnanimously,  (a  term  which,  in  our 
tongue,  expresses  all  that  I  have  described,  and  a  little 
more)  and  seemed  to  be  setting  all  creation  at  defiance. 
As  I  like  to  see  all  that  is  passing,  I  determined  to  take  a 
position  a  little  nearer  to  him,  and  to  ascertain  if  possible, 
what  it  was  that  affected  him  so  sensibly.  Accordingly 
I  approached  a  crowd  before  which  he  had  stopt  for  a 
moment,  and  examined  it  with  the  strictest  scrutiny. — 
But  I  could  see  nothing  in  it,  that  seemed  to  have  any 
thing  to  do  with  the  cavorter.  Every  man  appeared  to 
be  in  a  good  humor,  and  all  minding  their  own  business. 
Not  one  so  much  as  noticed  the  principal  figure.  Still 
he  went  on.  After  a  semicolon  pause,  which  my  ap 
pearance  seemed  to  produce,  (for  he  eyed  me  closely  as 
I  approached)  he  fetched  a  whoop,  and  swore  that  "  he 
could  out-swap  any  live  man,  woman  or  child,  that  ever 
walked  these  hills,  or  that  ever  straddled  horse  flesh  since 
the  days  of  old  daddy  Adam."  "Stranger,"  said  he  to 
me,"  did  you  ever  seethe  Yallow  Blossom  from  Jasper  ?" 

"No,"  said  I,  "  but  I  have  often  heard  of  him." 

"  I'm  the  boy,"  continued  he ;  "perhaps  a  leetle — jist  a 

leetle  of  the  best  man,  at  a  horse  swap,  that   ever  trod 

shoe-leather." 

I  began  to  feel  my  situation  a  little  awkward,  when  I 

was  relieved  by   a  man  somewhat  advanced  in  years, 

who  stept  up  and  began  to  survey  the  "  Yallow  Bios. 

corn's  "  horse  with  much  apparent  interest.     This  drew 
b2 


22 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  kC. 


the  rider's  attention,  and  he  turned  the  conversation  from 
me  to  the  stranger. 

"  Well,  my  old  coon,"  said  he,  "  do  you  want  to  swap 
hosses  r 

«  Why,  I  don't  know,"  replied  the  stranger  ;  I  be- 
lieve  I've  got  a  beast  I'd  trade  with  you  for  that  one,  if 
you  like  him." 

"  Well,  fetch  up  your  nag,  my  old  cock  ;  you're  jist 
the  lark  I  wanted  to  get  hold  of.  I  am  perhaps  a  leetle, 
jist  a  leetle,  of  the  best  man  at  a  horse  swap,  that  ever 
stole  cracklins  out  of  his  mammy's  fat  gourd.  Where's 
your  hoss  ?" 

"  I'll  bring  him  presently ;  but  I  want  to  examine  your 
horse  a  little." 

"  Oh !  look  at  him,"  said  the  Blossom,  alighting  and 
hitting  him  a  cut — "  look  at  him.  He's  the  best  piece  of 
hoss  flesh  in  the  thirteen  united  universal  worlds.  There's 
no  sort  o'  mistake  in  little  Bullet.  He  can  pick  up 
miles  on  his  feet  and  fling  'em  behind  him  as  fast  as  the 
next  man's  hoss,  I  don't  care  where  he  comes  from. — 
And  he  can  keep  at  it  as  long  as  the  Sun  can  shine 
without  resting." 

During  this  harangue,  little  Bullet  looked  as  if  he  un 
derstood  it  all,  believed  it,  and  was  ready  at  any  moment 
to  verify  it.  He  was  a  horse  of  goodly  countenance, 
rather  expressive  of  vigilance  than  fire ;  though,  an  un 
natural  appearance  of  fierceness  was  thrown  into  it,  by 
the  loss  of  his  ears,  which  had  been  cropt  pretty  close  to 
his  head.  Nature  had  done  but  little  for  Bullet's  head 
and  neck  ;  but  he  managed,  in  a  great  measure,  to  hide 
their  defects,  by  bowing  perpetually.  He  had  obviously 
suffered  severely  for  corn ;  but  if  his  ribs  and  hip  bones 
had  not  disclosed  the  fact,  he  never  would  have  done  it ; 
for  he  was  in  ill  respects,  as  cheerful  and  happy,  as  if 
he  commanded  all  the  corn-cribs  and  fodder  stacks  in 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  23 

Georgia.  His  height  was  about  twelve  hands ;  but  as 
his  shape  partook  somewhat  of  that  of  the  Giraffe,  his 
haunch0s  stood  much  lower.  They  were  short,  strait, 
peaked  ind  concave  Bullet's  taiJ,  however,  made 
amends  for  all  tiis  defects.  All  that  the  artist  could  do 
to  beautify  it,  had  been  done  ;  and  all  that  horse  could 
do  to  compliment  the  artist,  Bullet  did.  His  tail  was 
nicked  in  superior  style,  and  exhibited  the  line  of  beauty 
in  so  many  directions,  that  it  could  not  fail  to  hit  the  most 
fastidious  taste  in  some  of  them.  From  the  root  it  dropt 
into  a  graceful  festoon ;  then  rose  in  a  handsome  curve ; 
then  resumed  its  first  direction ;  and  then  mounted  sud 
denly  upwards  like  a  cypress  knee  to  a  perpendicular 
of  about  two  and  a  half  inches.  The  whole  had  a  care 
less  and  bewitching  inclination  to  the  right.  Bullet  ob 
viously  knew  where  his  beauty  lay,  and  took  all  occa 
sions  to  display  it  to  the  best  advantage.  If  a  stick 
cracked,  or  if  any  one  moved  suddenly  about  him,  or 
coughed,  or  hawked,  or  spoke  a  little  louder  than  com 
mon,  up  went  Bullet's  tail  like  lightning ;  and  if  the 
going  up  did  not  please,  the  coming  down  must  of  neces 
sity,  for  it  was  as  different  from  the  other  movement,  as 
was  its  direction.  The  first,  was  a  bold  and  rapid  flight 
upward  ;  usually  to  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees.  In 
this  position  he  kept  his  interesting  appendage,  until  he 
satisfied  himself  that  nothing  in  particular  was  to  be 
done ;  when  he  commenced  dropping  it  by  half  inches, 
in  second  beats — then  in  tripple  time — then  faster  and 
shorter,  and  faster  and  shorter  still ;  until  it  finally  died 
away  imperceptibly  into  its  natural  position.  If  I  might 
compare  sights  to  sounds,  I  should  say,  its  settling,  was 
more  like  the  note  of  a  locust  than  any  thing  else  in 
nature. 

Either  from  native  sprightliness  of  disposition,   from 
uncontrolable  activity,  or  from  an  unconquerable  habit 


24  GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C. 

of  removing  flies  by  the  stamping  of  the  feet,  Bullet 
never  stood  still ;  but  always  kept  up  a  gentle  fly -scar- 
ing  movement  of  his  limbs,  which  was  peculiarly  inter 
esting. 

"  I  tell  you,  man,"  proceeded  the  Yellow  Blossom, 
u  he's  the  best  live  hoss  that  ever  trod  the  grit  of  Geor 
gia.  Bob  Smart  knows  the  hoss.  Come  here,  Bob, 
and  mount  this  hoss  and  show  Bullet's  motions."  Here, 
Bullet  bristled  up,  and  looked  as  if  he  had  been  hunting 
for  Bob  all  day  long,  and  had  just  found  him.  Bob 
sprang  on  his  back.  "Boo-oo-oo, !"  said  Bob,  with  a 
fluttering  noise  of  the  lips ;  and  away  went  Bullet,  as 
if  in  a  quarter  race,  with  all  his  beauties  spread  in  hand 
some  style. 

"  Now  fetch  him  back,"  said  Blossom.  Bullet  turned 
and  came  in  pretty  much  as  he  went  out. 

"  Now  trot  him  by."  Bullet  reduced  his  tail  to  "  cus 
tomary  " — sidled  to  the  right  and  left  airily,  and  exhibit 
ed  at  least  three  varieties  of  trot,  in  the  short  space  of 
fifty  yards. 

*'  Make  him  pace !"  Bob  commenced  twitching  the 
bridle  and  kicking  at  the  same  time.  These  inconsistent 
movements  obviously  (and  most  naturally)  disconcerted 
Bullet ;  for  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  learn,  from  them, 
whether  he  was  to  proceed  or  stand  still.  He  started  to 
tjot — and  was  told  that  wouldn't  do.  He  attempted  a 
canter — and  was  checked  again.  He  stopt — and  was 
urged  to  go  on.  Bullet  now  rushed  into  the  wide  field  of 
experiment,  and  struck  out  a  gait  of  his  own,  that  com- 
pletely  turned  the  tables  upon  his  rider,  and  certainly 
deserved  a  patent.  It  seemed  to  have  derived  its  ele 
ments  from  the  jig,  the  minuet  and  the  cotillon.  If  it 
was  not  a  pace,  it  certainly  had  pace  in  it ;  and  no  man 
would  venture  to  call  it  any  thing  else ;  so  it  passed  off 
to  the  satisfaction  of  the  owner. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  fcC.  25 

"  Walk  him !"  Bullet  was  now  at  home  again  ;  and 
he  walked  as  if  money  was  staked  on  him. 

The  stranger,  whose  name  I  afterwards  learned  was 
Peter  Ketch,  having  examined  Bullet  to  his  heart's  con- 
tent,  ordered  his  son  Neddy  to  go  and  bring  up  Kit. 
Neddy  soon  appeared  upon  Kit ;  a  well  formed  sorrel  of 
the  middle  size,  and  in  good  order.  His  tout  ensemble 
threw  Bullet  entirely  in  the  shade ;  though  a  glance  was 
sufficient  to  satisfy  any  one,  that  Bullet  had  the  decided 
advantage  of  him  in  point  of  intellect. 

"  Why  man,"  said  Blossom,  "  do  you  bring  such  a 
hoss  as  that  to  trade  for  Bullet  ?  Oh,  I  see  you're  no 
notion  of  trading." 

"  Ride  him  off,  Neddy  !"  said  Peter.  Kit  put  off  at 
a  handsome  lope. 

"  Trot  him  back !"  Kit  came  in  at  a  long,  sweeping 
trot,  and  stopt  suddenly  at  the  crowd. 

"Well,"  said  Blossom,  "  let  me  look  at  him ;  may  be 
he'll  do  to  plough." 

"  Examine  him !"  said  Peter,  taking  hold  of  the  bri 
dle  close  to  the  mouth ;  "  He's  nothing  but  a  tacky. 
He  an't  as  pretty  a  horse  as  Bullet,  I  know  ;  but  he'll  do. 
Start  'em  together  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  mile  ;  and  if 
Kit  an't  twenty  mile  ahead  of  him  at  the  coming  out, 
any  man  may  take  Kit  for  nothing.  But  he's  a  monstrous 
mean  horse,  gentlemen  ;  any  man  may  see  that.  He's 
the  scariest  horse,  too,  you  ever  saw.  He  won't  do  to 
hunt  on,  no  how.  Stranger,  will  you  let  Neddy  have 
your  rifle  to  shoot  off  him  ?  Lay  the  rifle  between  his 
ears,  Neddy,  and  shoot  at  the  blaze  in  that  stump.  Tell 
me  when  his  head  is  high  enough." 

Ned  fired,  and  hit  the  blaze ;  and  Kit  did  not  move  a 
hair's  breadth. 

"  Neddy,  take  a  couple  of  sticks  and  beat  on  that 
hogshead  at  Kit's  tail." 


5Jt3  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

Ned  made  a  tremendous  rattling  ;  at  which  Bullet 
took  fright,  broke  his  bridle  and  dashed  off  in  grand 
style ;  and  would  have  stopt  all  farther  negotiations,  by 
going  home  in  disgust,  had  not  a  traveller  arrested  him 
and  brought  him  back  ;  but  Kit  did  not  move. 

"  I  tell  you,  gentlemen,"  continued  Peter,  "  he's  the 
scariest  horse  you  ever  saw.  He  an't  as  gentle  as  Bul 
let  ;  but  he  won't  do  any  harm  if  you  watch  him.  Shall 
I  put  him  in  a  cart,  gig,  or  wagon  for  you,  stranger  ? 
He'll  cut  the  same  capers  there  he  does  here.  He's  a 
monstrous  mean  horse." 

During  all  this  time,  Blossom  was  examining  him 
with  the  nicest  scrutiny.  Having  examined  his  frame 
and  limbs,  he  now  looked  at  his  eyes. 

"  He's  got  a  curious  look  out  of  his  eyes,"  said  Blos 
som." 

"  Oh  yes,  sir,"  said  Peter,  "  just  as  blind  as  a  bat. 
Blind  horses  Always  have  clear  eyes.  Make  a  motion 
at  his  eyes,  if  you  please,  sir." 

Blossom  did  so,  and  Kit  threw  up  his  head  rather  as 
if  something  pricked  him  under  the  chin,  than  as  if  fear 
ing  a  blow.  Blossom  repeated  the  experiment,  and  Kit 
jirked  back  in  considerable  astonishment. 

"  Stone  blind,  you  see,  gentlemen,"  proceeded  Peter ; 
«  but  he's  just  as  good  to  travel  of  a  dark  night  as  if  he 
had  eyes." 

"  Blame  my  buttons,"  said  Blossom,  "  if  I  like  them 
eyes." 

"  No,"  said  Peter,  "  nor  I  neither.  I'd  rather  have 
'em  made  of  diamonds  ;  but  they'll  do,  if  they  don't 
show  as  much  white  as  Bullet's." 

"  Well,"  said  Blossom,  make  a  pass  at  me." 

"  No,"  said  Peter ;  "  you  made  the  banter ;  now 
make  your  pass." 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  27 

"  Well  I'm  never  afraid  to  price  my  bosses.  You 
must  give  me  twenty-five  dollars  boot." 

"  Oh  certainly  ;  say  fifty,  and  my   saddle  and  bridle 
in.     Here,  Neddy,  my  son,  take  away  daddy's  horse." 
"  Well,   said  Blossom,  "  I've    made  my   pass  ;  now 
you  make  yours." 

"  I'm  for  short  talk  in  a  horse  swap  ;  and  therefore 
always  tell  a  gentleman,  at  once,  what  I  mean  to  do. 
You  must  give  me  ten  dollars." 

Blossom  swore  absolutely,  roundly  and  profanely,  that 
he  never  would  give  boot. 

«  Well,"  said  Peter,  "  I  didn't  care  about  trading  ; 
but  you  cut  such  high  shines,  that  I  thought  I'd  like  to 
back  you  out ;  and  I've  done  it.  Gentlemen,  you  see 
I've  brought  him  to  a  hack." 

"  Come,  old  man,"  said  Blossom,  "  I've  been  joking 
with  you.  1  begin  to  think  you  do  want  to  trade  ;  there 
fore,  give  me  five  dollars  and  take  Bullet.  I'd  rather 
lose  ten  dollars,  any  time,  than  not  make  a  trade  ;  though 
I  hate  to  fling  away  a  good  boss." 

"  Well,"  said  Peter,  "  I'll  be  as  clever  as  you  are. 
Just  put  the  five  dollars  on  Bullet's  back  and  hand  him 
over,  it's  a  trade. 

Blossom  swore  again,  as  roundly  as  before,  that  he 
would  not  give  boot ;  and,  said  he,  "  Bullet  wouldn't 
hold  five  dollars  on  his  back,  no  how.  But  as  I  banter. 
ed  you,  if  you  say  an  even  swap,  here's  at  you." 

"I  told  you,"  said  Peter,  "  Pd  be  as  clever  as  you; 
therefore,  here  goes  two  dollars  more,  just  for  trade  sake. 
Give  me  three  dollars,  and  it's  a  bargain." 

Blossom  repeated  his  former  assertion  ;  and  here  the 
parties  stood  for  a  long  time,  and  the  by-standers  (for 
many  were  now  collected,)  began  to  taunt  both  parties. 


"28  GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C. 

After  some  time,  however,  it  was  pretty  unanimously 
decided  that  the  old  man  had  backed  Blossom  out. 

At  length  Blossom  swore  he  "  never  would  be  back 
ed  out,  for  three  dollars,  after  bantering  a  man  ;"  and 
accordingly  they  closed  the  trade. 

"  Now,"  said  Blossom,  as  he  handed  Peter  the  three 
dollars,  "  I'm  a  man,  that  when  he  makes  a  bad  trade, 
makes  the  most  of  it  until  he  can  make  a  better.  I'm 
for  no  rues  and  after-claps." 

"  That's  just  my  way,"  said  Peter ;  «*  i  never  goes  to 
law  to  mend  my  bargains." 

"  Ah,  you're  the  kind  of  boy  I  love  to  trade  with. 
Here's  your  hoss,  old  man.  Take  the  saddle  and  bridle 
off  him,  and  I'll  strip  yours  ;  but  lift  up  the  blanket  easy 
from  Bullet's  back,  for  he's  a  mighty  tenderbacked  hoss." 

The  old  man  removed  the  saddle,  but  the  blanket 
stuck  fast.  He  attempted  to  raise  it,  and  Bullet  bowed 
himself,  switched  his  tail,  danced  a  little,  and  gave  signs 
of  biting. 

"  Don't  hurt  him,  old  man,"  said  Blossom  archly ; 
"  take  it  off  easy.  I  am,  perhaps,  a  leetle  of  the  best 
man  at  a  horse-swap  that  ever  catched  a  coon." 

Peter  continued  to  pull  at  the  blanket  more  and  more 
roughly ;  and  Bullet  became  more  and  more  cavortish: 
in  so  much,  that  when  the  blanket  came  off,  he  had  reach 
ed  the  kicking  point  in  good  earnest. 

The  removal  of  the  blanket,  disclosed  a  sore  on  Bul 
let's  back-bone,  that  seemed  to  have  defied  all  medical 
skill.  It  measured  six  full  inches  in  length,  and  four  in 
breadth  ;  and  had  as  many  features  as  Bullet  had  motions. 
My  heart  sickened  at  the  sight ;  and  I  felt  that  the  brute 
who  had  been  riding  him  in  that  situation,  deserved  the 
halter. 

The  prevailing  feeling,  however,  was  that  of  mirth. 
The  laugh  became  loud  and  general,  at  the  old  man's 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  29 

expense ;  and  rustic  witticisms  were  liberally  bestowed 
upon  him  and  his  late  purchase.  These,  Blossom  con 
tinued  to  provoke  by  various  remarks.  He  asked  the, 
old  man,  "  if  he  thought  Bullet  would  let  five  dollars  lie 
on  his  back."  He  declared  most  seriously,  that  he  had 
owned  that  horse  three  months,  and  had  never  discover 
ed  before,  that  he  had  a  sore  back,  "  or  he  never  should 
have  thought  of  trading  him,"  &c.  &c. 

The  old  man  bore  it  all  with  the  most  philosophic  compo 
sure.  He  evinced  no  astonishment  at  his  late  discove 
ry,  and  made  no  replies.  But  his  son,  Neddy,  had  not 
disciplined  his  feelings  quite  so  well.  His  eyes  opened, 
wider  and  wider,  from  the  first  to  the  last  pull  of  the 
blanket ;  and  when  the  whole  sore  burst  upon  his  view, 
astonishment  and  fright  seemed  to  contend  for  the  mas 
tery  of  his  countenance.  As  the  blanket  disappeared, 
he  stuck  his  hands  in  his  breeches  pockets,  heaved  a 
deep  sigh,  and  lapsed  into  a  profound  reverie  ;  from 
which  he  was  only  roused  by  the  cuts  at  his  father.  He 
bore  them  as  long  as  he  could  ;  and  when  he  could  con 
tain  himself  no  longer,  he  began,  with  a  certain  wildness 
of  expression,  which  gave  a  peculiar  interest  to  what  he 
uttered  :  "  His  back's  mighty  bad  off;  but  dod  drot  my 
soul,  if  he's  put  it  to  daddy  as  bad  as  he  thinks  hehas,  for 
old  Kit's  both  blind  and  deef,  I'll  be  dod  drot  if  he  eint." 
"  The  devil  he  is,"  said  Blossom.  "  Yes,  dod  drot  my 
soul  if  he  e int.  You  walk  him  and  see  if  he  eint.  His 
eyes  don't  look  like  it ;  but  he  jist  as  live  go  agin  the 
house  with  you,  or  in  a  ditch,  as  any  how.  Now  you 
go  try  him."  The  laugh  was  now  turned  on  Blossom  ; 
and  many  rushed  to  test  the  fidelity  of  the  little  boy's 
report.  A  few  experiments  established  its  truth,  beyond 
controversy. 

"  Neddy  "  said  the  old  man,  you  oughtn't  to  try  and 
make  people  discontented  with  their  things. "     "  Stranger, 


30  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

don't  mind  what  the  l.'ttle  boy  says.  If  you  can  only 
get  Kit  rid  of  them  little  failings,  you'll  find  him  all  sorts 
of  a  horse.  You  are  a  leetJe  the  best  man,  at  a  horse 
swap,  that  ever  I  got  hold  of;  but  don't  fool  away  Kit. 
Come,  Neddy,  my  son,  let's  be  moving ;  the  stranger 
seems  to  be  getting  snappish." 

HALL. 


THE  CHARACTER  OF  A  NATIVE  GEORGIAN. 

There  are  some  yet  living,  who  knew  the  man  whose 
character  I  am  about  to  delineate  ;  and  these  will  unani 
mously  bear  testimony,  that  if  it  be  not  faithfully  drawn, 
it  is  not  overdrawn.  They  cannot  avouch  for  the  truth 
of  the  anecdotes  which  I  am  about  to  relate  of  him, 
because  of  these  they  know  nothing ;  but  they  will  un 
hesitatingly  declare,  that  there  is  nothing  herein  ascribed 
to  him,  of  which  he  was  incapable,  and  of  which  he 
would  not  readily  have  been  the  author,  supposing  the 
scenes  in  which  I  have  placed  him  to  be  real,  and  the 
thoughts  and  actions  attributed  to  him,  to  have  actually 
suggested  themselves  to  him.  They  will  further  testify, 
that  the  thoughts  and  actions,  are  in  perfect  harmony 
with  his  general  character. 

I  do  not  feel  at  liberty  as  yet  to  give  the  name  of  the 
person  in  question,  and  therefore,  he  shall  be  designated 
for  the  present,  by  the  appellation  of  Ned  Brace. 

This  man  seemed  to  live  only  to  amuse  himself  with  his 
fellow. beings,  and  he  possessed  the  rare  faculty, of  deriving 


GEORGIA   SCENES,    &C.  31 

some  gratification  of  his  favorite  propensity,  from  almost 
every  person  with  whom  he  met,  no  matter  what  his 
temper,  standing  or  disposition.  Of  course  he  had  op 
portunities  enough  of  exercising  his  uncommon  gift,  and 
he  rarely  suffered  an  opportunity  to  pass  unimproved. 
The  baau  in  the  presence  of  his  mistress,  the  fop,  the 
pedant,  the  purse-proud,  the  over-fastidious  and  sensitive, 
were  Ned's  favorite  game.  These  never  passed  him 
uninjured  ;  and  against  such,  he  directed  his  severest 
shafts.  With  these  he  commonly  amused  himself,  by 
exciting  in  them  every  variety  of  emotion,  under  cir 
cumstances  peculiarly  ridiculous.  He  was  admirably 
fitted  to  his  vocation.  He  could  assume  any  character 
which  his  humor  required  him  to  personate,  and  he  could 
sustain  it  to  perfection.  His  knowledge  of  the  character 
of  others,  seemed  to  be  intuitive. 

It  may  seem  remarkable,  but  it  is  true,  that  though  he 
lived  his  own  peculiar  life  for  about  sixteen  years,  after 
he  reached  the  age  of  manhood,  he  never  involved  him- 
self  in  a  personal  recounter  with  any  one.  This  was 
owing  in  part  to  his  muscular  frame,  which  few  would 
be  willing  to  engage  ;  but  more  particularly  to  his 
adroitness  in  the  management  of  his  projects  of  fun. 
He  generally  conducted  them  in  such  a  way,  as  to  render 
it  impossible  for  any  one  to  call  him  to  account,  without 
violating  all  the  rules  of  decency,  politeness  and  chivalry 
at  once.  But  a  few  anecdotes  of  him,  will  give  the 
reader  a  much  better  idea  of  his  character,  than  he  can 
possibly  derive  from  a  general  description.  If  these 
fulfil  the  description  which  I  have  given  of  my  hero,  all 
will  agree  that  he  is  no  imaginary  being :  if  they  do 
not,  it  will  only  be,  because  I  am  unfortunate  in  my  se 
lection.  Having  known  him  from  his  earliest  manhood 
to  his  grave — for  he  was  a  native  Georgian — I  confess, 
that  I  am  greatly  perplexed,  in  determining  what  portions 


32  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

of  his  singular  history,  to  lay  before  the  reader,  as  a 
proper  specimen  of  the  whole.  A  three  day's  visit, 
which  I  once  made  with  him  to  Savannah,  placed  him  in 
a  greater  variety  of  scenes,  and  among  a  greater  diver 
sity  of  characters,  than  perhaps  any  other  period  of  his 
life,  embracing  no  longer  time;  and  therefore,  I  will 
choose  this  for  my  purpose. 

We  reached  Savannah  just  at  night-fall,  of  a  cold 
December's  evening.  As  we  approached  the  tavern  of 
Mr.  Blank,  at  which  we  designed  to  stop,  Ned  proposed 
to  me,  that  we  should  drop  our  acquaintance,  until  he 
should  choo&e  to  renew  it.  To  this  proposition  I  most 
cordially  assented,  for  I  knew,  that  so  doing,  I  should 
be  saved  some  mortifications,  and  avoid  a  thousand 
questions,  which  I  would  not  know  how  to  answer. 
According  to  this  understanding,  Ned  lingered  behind, 
in  order  that  I  might  reach  the  tavern  alone. 

On  alighting  at  the  public  house,  I  was  led  into  a  large 
dining-room,  at  the  entrance  of  which,  to  the  right,  stood 
the  bar,  opening  into  the  dining-room.  On  the  left,  and 
rather  nearer  to  the  centre  of  the  room,  was  a  fire-place, 
surrounded  by  gentlemen.  Upon  entering  the  room, 
my  name  was  demanded  at  the  bar  :  it  was  given,  and 
I  took  my  seat  in  the  circle  around  the  fire.  I  had  been 
seated  just  long  enough  for  the  company  to  survey  me 
to  their  satisfaction,  and  resume  their  conversation,  when 
Ned's  heavy  footstep  at  the  door,  turned  the  eyes  of  the 
company  to  the  approaching  stranger. 

"  Your  name  sir,  if  you  please  ?"  said  the  restless  little 
bar-keeper,  as  he  entered. 

Ned  stared  at  the  question  with  apparent  alarm — 
cast  a  fearful  glance  at  the  company — frowned  and 
shook  his  head  in  token  of  caution  to  the  bar-keeper — 
looked  confused  for  a  moment — then,  as  if  suddenly  re 
collecting  himself,  jirked  a  piece  of  paper  out  of  his 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  33 

pocket — turned  from  the  company — wrote  on  it  with  his 
pencil — handed  it  to  the  bar-keeper — walked  to  the  left 
of  the  fire-place,  and  took  the  most  conspicuous  seat  in 
the  circle.  He  looked  at  no  one,  spoke  to  no  one ;  but 
fixing  his  eyes  on  the  fire,  lapsed  into  a  profound  reverie. 

The  conversation,  which  had  been  pretty  general 
before,  stopped  as  short,  as  if  every  man  in  the  room 
had  been  shot  dead.  Every  eye  was  fixed  on  Ned,  and 
every  variety  of  expression  was  to  be  seen  on  the  coun 
tenances  of  the  persons  present.  The  landlord  came  in 
— the  bar-keeper  whispered  to  him  and  looked  at  Ned. 
The  landlord  looked  at  him  too  with  astonishment  and 
alarm — the  bar-keeper  produced  a  piece  of  paper,  and 
both  of  them  examined  it,  as  if  searching  for  a  fig-mite  with 
the  naked  eye.  They  rose  from  the  examination  unsatisfi 
ed,  and  looked  at  Ned  again.  Those  of  the  company  who 
recovered  first  from  their  astonishment,  tried  to  revive  the 
conversation  ;  but  the  effort  was  awkward,  met  with  no 
support,  and  failed.  The  bar-keeper,  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life,  became  dignified  and  solemn,  and  left  the  bar 
to  take  care  of  itself.  The  landlord  had  a  world  of 
foolish  questions  to  ask  the  gentlemen  directly  opposite 
to  Ned,  for  which  purpose  he  passed  round  to  them 
every  two  minutes,  and  the  answer  to  none  did  he  hear. 

Three  or  four  boarders  coming  in,  who  were  unappriz- 
ed  of  what  had  happened,  at  length  revived  the  conver 
sation  ;  not  however,  until  they  had  created  some  confu 
sion,  by  enquiring  of  their  friends,  the  cause  of  their 
sober  looks.  As  soon  as  the  conversation  began  to  be 
come  easy  and  natural,  Ned  rose,  and  walked  out  into 
the  entry.  With  the  first  movement,  all  were  as  hush  as 
death  ;  but  when  he  had  cleared  the  door,  another  Babel 
scene  ensued.  Some  enquired,  others  suspected,  and  all 
wondered.  Some  were  engaged  in  telling  the  strangers 
what  had  happened,  others  were  making  towards  the 


34  ©EORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

bar,  and  all  were  becoming  clamorous,  when  Ned  re- 
turned  and  took  his  seat.  His  re-entry  was  as  fatal  to 
conversation,  as  was  the  first  movement  of  his  exit ;  but 
it  soon  recovered  from  the  shock — with  the  difference, 
however,  that  those  who  led  before,  were  now  mute, 
and  wholly  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  Ned's 
person. 

After  retaining  his  seat  for  about  ten  minutes,  Ned 
rose  again,  enquired  the  way  to  the  stable,  and  left  the 
house.  As  soon  as  he  passed  the  outer  door,  the  bar 
keeper  hastened  to  the  company  with  Ned's  paper  in  his 
hand.  "  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  can  any  of  you  tell  me 
what  name  this  is  ?"  All  rushed  to  the  paper  in  an 
instant— one  or  two  pair  of  heads  met  over  it  with  con 
siderable  force.  After  pondering  over  it  to  their  heart's 
content,  they  all  agreed  that  the  first  letter  was  an  "  E" 
and  the  second  a  "  B"  or  an  "  R,"  and  the  d — 1  himself 
could  not  make  out  the  balance.  While  they  were  thus 
engaged,  to  the  astonishment  of  every  body,  Ned  inter 
rupted  their  deliberations  with  "  gentlemen,  if  you  have 
satisfied  yourselves  with  that  paper,  I'll  thank  you  for 
it."  It  is  easy  to  imagine,  but  impossible  to  describe  the 
looks  and  actions  of  the  company,  under  their  surprise 
and  mortification.  They  dropt  off  and  left  the  bar-keeper 
to  his  appropriate  duty,  of  handing  the  paper  to  Ned. 
He  reached  it  forth,  but  Ned  moved  not  a  hand  to  re 
ceive  it,  for  about  the  space  of  three  seconds ;  during 
which  time  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  arch-offender 
in  awfully  solemn  rebuke.  He  then  took  it  gravely  and 
put  it  in  his  pocket,  and  left  the  bar-keeper,  with  a  shak 
ing  ague  upon  him.  From  this  moment  he  became  Ned's 
most  obsequious  and  willing  slave. 

Supper  was  announced  ;  Mrs.  Blank,  the  landlady, 
took  the  head  of  the  table,  and  Ned  seated  himself  next 
to  her.  Her  looks  denoted  some  alarm  at  finding  him 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  35 

so  near  to  her  ;  and  plainly  showed,  that  he  had  been 
fully  described  to  her  by  her  husband,  or  some  one  else. 

"  Will  you  take  tea  or  coffee,  sir  ?"  said  she. 

«  Why  madam,"  said  Ned,  in  a  tone  as  courteous  as 
Chesterfield  himself  could  have  used,  "  I  am  really 
ashamed  to  acknowledge  and  to  expose  my  very  singular 
appetite  ;  but  habitual  indulgence  of  it,  has  made  it  ne 
cessary  to  my  comfort,  if  not  to  my  health,  that  I  should 
still  favor  it  when  I  can.  If  you  will  pardon  me,  I  will 
take  both  at  the  same  time." 

This  respectful  reply,  (which,  by  the  way,  she  alone 
was  permitted  to  hear,)  had  its  natural  effect.  It  won 
for  him  her  unqualified  indulgence,  raised  doubts  whether 
he  could  be  the  suspicious  character  which  had  been 
described  to  her,  and  begat  in  her  a  desire  to  cultivate 
a  further  acquaintance  with  him.  She  handed  to  him 
the  two  cups,  and  accompanied  them  with  some  remarks 
drawn  from  her  own  observation  in  the  line  of  her  busi 
ness,  calculated  to  reconcile  him  to  his  whimsical  appe 
tite  ;  but  she  could  extract  from  Ned  nothing  but  mono 
syllables,  and  sometimes  not  even  that  much.  Conse 
quently,  the  good  lady  began  very  soon  to  relapse  into 
her  former  feelings. 

Ned  placed  a  cup  on  either  side  of  him,  and  commenced 
stirring  both  at  the  same  time  very  deliberately.  This 
done,  he  sipped  a  little  tea,  and  asked  Mrs.  B.  for  a  drop 
more  milk  in  it.  Then  he  tasted  his  coffee,  and  desired 
a  little  more  sugar  in  it.  Then  he  tasted  his  tea  again 
and  requested  a  small  lump  more  sugar  in  it — Lastly  he 
tasted  his  coffee,  and  desired  a  few  drops  more  milk  in 
that.  It  was  easy  to  discover,  that  before  he  got  suited, 
the  landlady  had  solemnly  resolved,  never  to  offer  any 
more  encouragements  to  such  an  appetite.  She  waxed 
exceedingly  petulent,  and  having  nothing  else  to  scold, 
she  scolded  the  servants  of  course. 


36  GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C. 

Waffles  were  handed  to  Ned,  and  he  took  one  :  batter- 
cakes  were  handed,  and  he  took  one ;  and  so  on  of  muffins, 
rolls,  and  corn  bread.  Having  laid  in  these  provisions, 
he  turned  into  his  plate,  upon  his  waffle  and  batter-cake, 
some  of  the  crums  of  the  several  kinds  of  bread  which  he 
had  taken,  in  different  proportions,  and  commenced 
mashing  all  together  with  his  knife.  During  this  opera 
tion  the  landlady  frowned  and  pouted, — the  servants 
giggled, — and  the  boarders  were  variously  affected. 

Having  reduced  his  mess  to  the  consistency  of  a  hard 
poultice,  he  packed  it  all  up  to  one  side  of  his  plate  in 
the  form  of  a  terrapin,  and  smoothed  it  all  over  nicely 
with  his  knife.  Nearly  opposite  to  Ned,  but  a  little  below 
him,  sat  a  waspish  little  gentleman,  who  had  been  watch- 
ing  him  with  increasing  torments,  from  the  first  to  the 
last  movement  of  Ned's  knife.  His  tortures  were  visible 
to  blinder  eyes  than  Ned's,  and  doubtless  had  been  seen 
by  him  in  their  earliest  paroxysms.  This  gentleman 
occupied  a  seat  nearest  to  a  dish  of  steak,  and  was  in  the 
act  of  muttering  something  about  l  brutes'  to  his  next 
neighbor,  when  Ned  beckoned  a  servant  to  him,  and  re 
quested  him  "  to  ask  that  gentleman  for  a  small  bit  of 
steak."  The  servant  obeyed,  and  planting  Ned's  plate 
directly  between  the  gentleman's  and  the  steak-dish,  de 
livered  his  message.  The  testy  gentleman  turned  his 
head,  and  the  first  thing  he  saw  was  Ned's  party-colour 
ed  terrapin,  right  under  his  nose.  He  started  as  if  he 
had  been  struck  by  a  snapping-turtle — reddened  to  scar 
let — looked  at  Ned,  (who  appeared  as  innocent  as  a 
lamb) — looked  at  the  servant,  (who  appeared  as  inno 
cent  as  Ned)  and  then  fell  to  work  on  the  steak,  as  if  he 
were  amputating  all  Ned's  limbs  at  once. 

Ned  now  commenced  his  repast.  He  ate  his  meat 
and  breads  in  the  usual  way ;  but  he  drank  his  liquids 
in  all  ways.  First  a  sip  of  tea,  then  of  coffee ;  then 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  37 

two  of  the  first  and  one  of  the  last ;  then  three  of  the 
last,  and  one  of  the  first,  and  so  on. 

His  steak  was  soon  consumed,  and  his  plate  was  a 
second  time  returned  to  the  mettlesome  gentleman  "  for 
another  very  small  bit  of  steak."  The  plate  paid  its 
second  visit,  precisely  as  it  had  its  first ;  and  as  soon  as 
the  fiery  gentleman  saw  the  half-demolished  terrapin 
again  under  his  nose,  he  seized  a  fork,  drove  it  into  the 
largest  slice  of  steak  in  the  dish,  dashed  it  into  Ned's 
plate,  rose  from  the  table,  and  left  the  room ;  cursing 
Ned  from  the  very  inmost  chamber  of  his  soul.  Every 
person  at  the  table,  except  Ned,  laughed  outright  at  the 
little  man's  fury  ;  but  Ned  did  not  even  smile — nay,  he 
looked  for  all  the  world,  as  if  he  thought  the  laugh  was 
at  him. 

The  boarders,  one  after  another,  retired,  until  Ned 
and  the  landlady  were  left  alone  at  the  table. 

"  Will  you  have  another  cup  of  tea  and  coffee  sir  ?" 
said  she,  by  the  way  of  convincing  him  that  he  ought  to 
retire,  seeing  that  he  had  finished  his  supper. 

"  No  I   thank  you  madam,"  returned  Ned. 

"  Will  you  have  a  glass  of  milk  and  a  cup  of  tea  or 
coffee  ;  or  all  three  together  ?" 

"  No  ma'am,"  said  Ned.  "  I  am  not  blind  madam," 
continued  he,  "  to  the  effects  which  my  unfortunate  ec 
centricities  have  produced  upon  yourself  and  your  com 
pany  ;  nor  have  I  witnessed  them  without  those  feelings 
which  they  are  well  calculated  to  inspire  in  a  man  of 
ordinary  sensibilities.  I  am  aware,  too,  that  I  am  pro 
longing  and  aggravating  your  uneasiness,  by  detaining 
you  beyond  the  hour  which  demands  your  presence  at 
the  table  ;  but  I  could  not  permit  you  to  retire,  without 
again  bespeaking  your  indulgence  of  the  strange,  unnatu 
ral  appetite,  which  has  just  caused  you  so  much  aston 
ishment  and  mortification.  The  story  of  its  beginning 


38  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

might  be  interesting,  and  certainly  would  be  instructing 
to  you  if  you  are  a  mother :  but  I  am  indisposed  at  this 
time  to  obtrude  it  upon  your  patience,  and  I  presume  you 
are  still  less  disposed  to  hear  it.  My  principal  object, 
however,  in  claiming  your  attention  for  a  momer  t  at  this 
time,  is  to  assure  you,  that  out  of  respect  to  your  feelings, 
I  will  surrender  the  enjoyment  of  my  meals  for  the  few 
days  that  I  have  to  remain  in  Savannah,  and  conform  to 
the  customs  of  your  table.  The  sudden  change  of  my 
habits  will  expose  me  to  some  inconvenience,  and  may 
perhaps  effect  my  health;  but  I  willingly  incur  these 
hazards,  rather  than  to  renew  your  modification,  or  to 
impose  upon,  your  family  the  trouble  of  giving  me  my 
meals  at  my  room." 

The  good  lady,  whose  bitter  feelings  had  given  place 
to  the  kinder  emotion  of  pity  and  benevolence,  before 
Ned  had  half  concluded  his  apology,(for  it  was  delivered 
in  a  tone  of  the  most  melting  eloquence,)  caught  at  this 
last  hint,  and  insisted  upon  sending  his  meals  to  his  room. 
Ned  reluctantly  consented,  after  extorting  a  pledge  from 
her,  that  she  would  assume  the  responsibilities  of  the 
trouble  that  he  was  about  to  give  the  fum.ly. 

"  As  to  your  boarders,  madam,"  said  Ned,  in  conclu 
sion.  "  I  have  no  apology  to  make  to  them.  I  grant 
them  the  privilege  of  eating  what  they  please,  and  as 
they  please ;  and  so  far  as  they  are  concerned  I  shall 
exercise  the  same  privileges,  reckless  of  their  feelings  or 
opinions ;  and  I  shall  take  it  as  a  singuular  fuvor  if  you 
will  say  nothing  to  them  or  to  any  one  else,  which  may 
lead  them  to  the  discovery,  that  I  am  acquainted  with 
my  cwn  peculiarities." 

The  good  lady  promised  obedience  to  his  wishes,  and 
Ned,  requesting  to  be  conducted  to  the  room,  retiree7. 

A  group  of  gentlemen  at  the  fire-place  had  sent  many 
significant  u  hems"  and  smiles  to  Mrs.  Blank,  during  her 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  39 

tete  a  tete  with  Ned  ;  and  as  she  approached  them,  on 
her  way  out  of  the  room,  they  began  to  taunt  her  play, 
fully,  upon  the  impression  which  she  seemed  to  have 
made  upo.i  the  remarkable  stranger. 

"  Really,"  said  one,  "  I  thought  the  impression  was 
on  the  other  side." 

"  And  ia  truth,  so  it  was,"  said  Mrs.  B.  At  this  mo 
ment  her  husband  stept  in. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  Mr.  Blank,"  said  on?  of  the 
company,  "  you'd  better  keep  a  sharp  look  out  on  that 
stranger ;  our  landlady  is  wonderfully  taken  with  him." 
"  I'll  be  bound,"  said  Mr.  B.  "  for  my  wife  ;  the  less 
like  any  body  else  in  the  world  he  is,  the  better  will  she 
like  him." 

"  Well  I  assure  you,"  said  Mrs.  B.  "  I  never  had  my 
feelings  so  deeply  interested  in  a  stranger  in  my  life. 
I'd  give  the  world  to  know  his  history." 

"Why,  then,"  rejoined  the  landlord;  "I  suppose  he 
has  been  quizzing  us  all  this  time." 

"  No,"  sj.id  she,  "  he  is  incapable  of  quizzing.  All 
that  you  hove  seen  of  hirn  is  unaffected,  and  perfectly 
natural  to  him." 

"  Then,  redly,"  continued  the  husband,  "he  is  a  very 
interesting  object,  and  I  congratulate  you  upon  getting 
so  early  into  his  confidence ;  but  as  I  am  not  quite  as 
much  oajitiv&ted  with  his  unaffected  graces  as  you 
seem  to  be,  I  shall  take  the  liberty,  in  charity  to  the 
rest  of  my  boarders,  of  requesting  him  to-morrow,  to 
seek  other  lodgings." 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  B.  in  the  goodness  of  her  heart, 
and  with  a  countenance  evincive  of  the  deepest  feeling, 
"  I  would  not  have  you  do  such  a  thing  for  the  world. 
He's  or.ly  going  to  stay  a  few  days." 
"  How  do  you  know  ?" 
"  He  told  me  so,  and  do  let's  bear  with  him  that  short 


40  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

time.    He  sha'nt  trouble  you  or  the  boarders  any  more." 

"  Why  Sarah,"  said  the  landlord,  "  I  do  believe  you 
are  out  of  your  senses  !" 

"  Gone  case  !"  said  one  boarder.  "  Terrible  affair  !" 
said  another.  "  Bewitching  little  fellow,"  said  a  third. 
"  Come,  Mrs.  Blank,  tell  us  all  he  said  to  you  ?  We 
young  men  wish  to  know  how  to  please  the  ladies,  so 
that  we  may  get  wives  easily.  I'm  determined  the  next 
party  I  go  to,  to  make  a  soup  of  every  thing  on  the  wai 
ters,  and  eat  all  at  once.  I  shall  then  become  irresistible 
to  the  ladies." 

"  Get  along  with  your  nonsense,"  said  Mrs.  B.  smiling 
as  she  left  the  room. 

At  8  o'clock,  I  retired  to  my  room,  which  happened 
(probably  from  the  circumstance  of  our  reaching  the 
hotel  within  a  few  minutes  of  each  other,)  to  be  adjoin 
ing  Ned's.  I  had  no  sooner  entered  my  room,  than  Ned 
followed  me,  where  we  interchanged  the  particulars 
which  make  up  the  foregoing  story.  He  now  expended 
freely  the  laughter  which  he  had  been  collecting  during 
the  evening.  He  stated  that  his  last  interview  with  Mrs. 
Blank,  was  the  result  of  necessity — That  he  found  he 
had  committed  himself  in  making  up  and  disposing  of 
his  odd  supper  ;  for  that  he  should  have  to  eat  in  the  same 
way,  during  his  whole  stay  in  Savannah,  unless  he  could 
manage  to  get  his  meals  in  private  ;  and  though  he  was 
willing  to  do  penance  for  one  meal,  in  order  to  purchase 
the  amusement  which  he  had  enjoyed,  he  had  no  idea  of 
tormenting  himself  three  or  four  days  for  the  same  pur- 
pose.  To  tell  you  the  honest  truth,  said  he,  nothing  but 
an  appetite  whetted  by  fasting  and  travelling,  could  have 
borne  me  through  the  table  scene.  As  it  was,  my 
stomach  several  times  threatened  to  expose  my  tricks  to 
the  whole  company,  by  downright  open  rebellion.  I 
feel  that  I  must  make  it  some  atonement  for  the  liberty  I 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  41 

have  taken  with  it ;  and  therefore,  propose  that  we  go 
out  and  get  an  oyster  supper  before  we  retire  to  rest.  I 
assented :  we  set  out,  going  separately,  until  we  reached 
the  street. 

We  were  received  by  the  oyster- vender,  in  a  small 
shop,  which  fronted  upon  the  street,  and  were  conducted 
through  it  to  a  back  door,  and  thence,  by  a  flight  of  steps, 
to  a  convenient  room,  on  a  second  floor  of  an  adjoining 
building.  We  had  been  seated  about  three  minutes, 
when  we  heard  footsteps  on  the  stairs,  and  distinctly 
caught  this  sentence  from  the  ascending  stranger  : 
"  Aha,  Monsieur  Middletong !  you  say  you  hab  de  bes 
oystar  in  de  cittee?  Well,  me  shall  soon  see." 

The  sentence  was  hardly  uttered,  before  the  door 
opened,  and  in  stept  a  gay,  smerky  little  Frenchman. 
He  made  us  a  low  bow,  and  as  soon  as  he  rose  from  his 
obeisance,  Ned  rushed  to  him  in  transports  of  joy — 
seized  him  by  the  hand,  and  shaking  it  with  friendship's 
warmest  grasp,  exclaimed,  "  How  do  you  do  my  old 
friend — I  had  no  idea  of  meeting  you  here — how  do  you 
do  Mr.  Squeezelfanter  1  how  have  you  been  this  long 
time?" 

"  Sair,"  said  the  Frenchman,  "  me  tank  you  ver'  much 
to  lub  me  so  hard  ;  but  you  mistake  de  gentleman — my 
name  is  not  deSqueezilfaunter." 

"  Come,  come  John,"  continued  Ned,  "  quit  your  old 
tricks  before  strangers.  Mr.  Hall,  let  me  introduce  you 
to  my  particular  friend,  John  Squeezelfanter,  from  Paris." 

"  Perhaps,  sir,"  said  I — not  knowing  well  what  to  say, 
or  how  to  act  in  such  an  emergency—"  perhaps  you 
have  mistaken  the  gentleman." 

"Begar,  sair,"  said  Monsieur,  "  he  is  mistake  ebery 
ting  at  once.  My  name  is  not  ZJiaun,  me  play  no  treek, 
me  is  not  de  gentilmong  fren',  me  did  not  come  from 
Paree,  but  from  Bordeaux — and  me  did  not  suppose 

d 


42  GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C. 

dare  was  one  man  in  all  France,  dat  was  name  de 

Squeezilfaunter. " 

"  If  I  am  mistaken,"  said  Ned,  "  I  humbly  ask  your 
pardon  ;  but  really,  you  look  so  much  like  my  old  friend 
Jack,  and  talk  so  much  like  him,  that  I  would  have 
sworn  you  were  he." 

"  Vel  sair,"  said  Monsieur,  looking  at  Ned  as  though 
he  might  be  an  acquaintance  after  all — "  veil  sair,  dis 
time  you  tell  my  name  right — my  name  is  Jacques* 
— Jacques  Saner ic. 

"  There,"  proceeded  Ned,  "  I  knew  it  was  impossible 
I  could  be  mistaken — your  whole  family  settled  on  Sandy 
Creek — I  knew  your  father  and  mother,  your  sister 
Patsy  and  Dilsy,  your  brother  Ichabod,  your  aunt 

Bridget,  your ." 

"  Oh  mon  Dieu,  mon  Dieu  !"  exclaimed  the  French- 
man,  no  longer  able  to  contain  his  surprise  ;  "  dat  is  von 
'Mericane  familee.  Dare  vas  not  one  French"  familee 
hab  all  dat  name  since  dis  vorl'  vas  make." 

"  Now  look  at  me  good  Jack,"  said  Ned,  "  and  see  if 
you  don't  recollect  your  old  friend  Obadiah  Snoddleburg, 
who  used  to  play  with  you  when  a  boy,  in  Sandy 
Creek." 

"  Vel,  Monsieur  Snotborg,  me  look  at  you  ver'  well ; 
and  begar  me  neber  see  you  in  de  creek,  nor  out  de 
creek — 'Tis  ver'  surprise,  you  not  know  one  name,  from 
one  creek." 

"  Oh,  very  well  sir,  very  well,  I  forgot  where  I  was 
— I  understand  you  now  perfectly.  You  are  not  the 
first  gentleman  I  have  met  with  in  Savannah,  who  knew 
me  well  in  the  country,  and  forgot  me  in  town.  I  ask 
your  pardon  sir,  and  hope  you'll  excuse  me." 

*  This  name  in  French  is  pronounced  very  nearly  like  "  Jack,"   in 
English. 


GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C.  43 

"  Me  is  ver'  will  to  know  you  now,  sair ;  but  begar 
me  will  not  tell  you  one  lie,  to  know  you  twenty-Jive  and 
tirty  years  ago." 

"  It  makes  no  difference  sir,'*  said  Ned,  looking 
thoughtfully  and  chagrined.  "  I  beg  leave,  however, 
before  we  close  our  acquaintance  ;  to  correct  one  mis 
take  which  1  made. — I  said  you  were  from  Paris — I  be 
lieve  on  reflection,  I  was  wrong — I  think  your  sister 
Dilsy  told  me  you  were  from  Bordeaux." 

"  Foutre,  de  sist,  Dils  ! — Here  Monsieur  Middletong  ! 
My  oystar  ready  ?" 
«  Yes  sir." 

"  Vel,  if  my  oystar  ready,  you  give  dem  to  my  fren' 
Monsieur  Snotborg ;  and  ask  him  to  be  so  good  to  carry 
dem  to  my  sist'  Dils,  and  my  brodder  Ichbod  on  Sand' 
Creek."— So  saying,  he  vanished  like  lightning. 

The  next  morning  at  breakfast,  I  occupied  Ned's  seat. 
Mrs.  Blank  had  no  sooner  taken  her  place,  than  she 
ordered  a  servant  to  bring  her  a  waiter ;  upon  which 
she  placed  a  cup  of  tea,  and  another  of  coffee — then 
ordering  three  plates,  she  placed  them  on  it ;  sent  one 
servant  for  one  kind  of  bread,  and  another  for  another, 
and  so  on  through  all  the  varieties  that  were  on  the  table, 
from  which  she  made  selections  for  plate  No.  1.  In  the 
same  way  did  she  collect  meats  for  plate  No.  2 — No.  3 
she  left  blank.  She  had  nearly  completed  her  opera 
tions,  when  her  husband  came  to  know  why  every  ser 
vant  was  engaged,  and  no  gentleman  helped  to  any 
thing,  when  the  oddly  furnished  waiter  met  his  eye,  and 
fully  explained  the  wonder. 

"  In  God's  name,  Sarah,"  said  he,  "  who  are  you 
mixing  up  those  messes  for  ?" 

"  For  that  strange  gentleman  we  were  speaking  of 
last  night,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Why  doesn't  he  come  to  the  table  ?" 


44  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

"  He  was  very  anxious  to  come,  but  I  would  not  let 
him." 

«  You  would  not  let  him  !  Why  not  ?" 

"  Because  I  did  not  wish  to  see  a  man  of  his  delicate 
sensibilities  ridiculed  and  insulted  at  my  table." 

"  Delicate  devilabilities !  Then  why  did'nt  you 
send  a  servant  to  collect  his  mixtures  ?" 

"  Because  I  preferred  doing  it  myself,  to  troubling  the 
boarders.  I  knew  that  wherever  his  plates  went,  the 
gentlemen  would  be  making  merry  over  them,  and  I 
could'nt  bear  to  see  it." 

The  landlord  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  with  com 
mingled  astonishment,  doubt,  and  alarm  ;  and  then  upon 
the  breath  of  a  deep  drawn  sigh  proceeded. — 

*  Well,  d — n*  the  man  !     He  has'nt  been  in  the  house 
more  than  two  hours,  except  when  he  was  asleep,  and 
he  has  insulted  one  half  my  boarders,  made  fools  of  the 
other  half,  turned  the  head  of  my  bar-keeper,  crazed  all 
my  servants,  and  run  my  wife  right  stark,  staring,  raving 
mad — A  man  who  is  a  perfect  clown  in  his  manners, 
and  who,  I  have  no  doubt,  will,  in  the  end,  prove  to  be 
a  horse  thief." 

Much  occurred  between  the  landlord  and  his  lady  in 
relation  to  Ned,  which  we  must  of  necessity  omit.  Suf 
fice  it  to  say,  that  her  assiduties  to  Ned,  her  unexplained 
sympathies  for  him,  her  often  repeated  desires  to  become 
bstter  acquainted  with  him,  conspiring  with  one  or  two 
short  interviews  which  her  husband  saw.  between  her 
and  Ned,  (and  which  consisted  of  nothing  more  than  ex 
pressions  of  regret  on  his  part,  at  the  trouble  he  was 
giving  the  family,  and  assurrance  on  hers,  that  it  was  no 

*  I  should  certainly  omit  such  expressions  as  this,  could  I  do  so  with 
historic  fidelity ;  but  the  peculiarities  of  the  times  of  which  I  am 
writing,  cannet  be  faithfully  represented  without  them.    In  recording 
things  as  they  are,  truth  requires  me  sometimes  to  put  profane  lan 
guage  into  the  mouths  of  my  characters. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  45 

trouble  at  all,)  began  to  bring  upon  the  landlord,  the 
husband's  worst  calamity.  This  she  soon  observed,  and 
considering  her  duty  to  her  husband  as  of  paramount 
obligation,  she  gave  him  an  explanation  that  was  entirely 
satisfactory.  She  told  him  that  Ned  was  a  man  of  re 
fined  feelings  and  high  cultivated  mind,  but  that  in  his 
infancy  his  mother  had  forced  him  to  eat  different  kinds 
of  diet  together,  until  she  had  produced  in  him  a  vitiated 
and  unconquerable  appetite,  which  he  was  now  constrain- 
ed  to  indulge,  as  the  drunkard  does  his,  or  be  miserable. 
As  the  good  man  was  prepared  to  believe  any  story  of 
woman 's  folly,  he  was  satisfied. 

This  being  the  Sabbath,  at  the  usual  hour,  Ned  went, 
to  Church,  and  selected  for  his  morning's  service,  one  of 
those  Churches  in  which  the  pews  .are  free,  and  in  which 
the  hymn  is  given  out,  and  sung  by  the  congregation,  a 
half  recitative. 

Ned  entered  the  Church,  in  as  fast  a  walk  as  he  could 
possibly  assume — proceeded  about  half  down  the  aisle, 
and  popt  himself  down  in  his  seat  as  quick  as  if  he  had 
been  shot.  The  more  thoughtless  of  the  congregation 
began  to  titter,  and  the  graver  peeped  up  slily,  but  sol 
emnly  at  him. 

The  Pastor  rose,  and  before  giving  out  the  hymn,  ob- 
served,  that  singing  was  a  part  of  the  service,  in  which 
he  thought  the  whole  congregation  ought  to  join.  Thus 
saying,  he  gave  out  the  first  lines  of  the  hymn.  As  soon 
as  the  tune  was  raised,  Ned  struck  in,  with  one  of  the 
loudest,  hoarsest, most  discordant  voices,  that  ever  annoy 
ed  a  solemn  assembly. 

"  I  would  observe,"  said  the  preacher,  before  giving 
out  the  next  two  lines,  « that  there  are  some  parsons  who 
have  not  the  gift  of  singing  ;  such  of  course  are  not  ex- 
pected  to  sing."  Ned  took  the  hint,  and  sang  no  more  ; 
but  his  entrance  into  church,  and  his  entrance  into  the 


46  GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C. 

hymn,  had  already  dispersed  the  solemnity  of  three  fifths 
of  the  congregation. 

As  soon  as  the  Pastor  commenced  his  sermon,  Ned 
opened  his  eyes,  threw  back  his  head,  dropt  his  under- 
jaw,  and  surrendered  himself  to  the  most  intense  interest. 
The  preacher  was  an  indifferent  one,  and  by  as  much 
as  he  became  dull  and  insipid,  by  so  much  did  Ned  be 
come  absorbed  in  the  discourse.  And  yet  it  was  impos 
sible  for  the  nicest  observer  to  detect  any  thing  in  his 
looks  or  manner,  short  of  the  most  solemn  devotion. 
The  effect  which  his  conduct  had  upon  the  congregation, 
and  their  subsequent  remarks  must  be  left  to  the  imagi 
nation  of  the  reader.  I  give  but  one  remark — "  Bless 
that  good  man  who  came  in  the  Church  so  quick,"  said 
a  venerable  matron  as  she  left  the  church  door>  "  how 
he  was  affected  by  the  sarment." 

Ned  went  to  church  no  more  on  that  day.  About 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  while  he  was  standing  at 
the  tavern,  door  a  funeral  procession  passed  by,  at  the 
foot  of  which,  and  singly,  walked  one  of  the  smallest 
men  I  ever  saw.  As  soen  as  he  came  opposite  the  door, 
Ned  stept  out  and  joined  him  with  great  solemnity. 
The  contrast  between  the  two  was  ludicrously  striking, 
imd  the  little  man's  looks  and  uneasiness,  plainly  showed 
that  he  felt  it.  However,  he  soon  became  reconciled  to 
it.  They  proceeded  but  a  little  way  before  Ned  en 
quired  of  his  companion,  who  was  dead? 

"  Mr.  Noah  Bills,"  said  the  little  man. 

"  Nan  ?"  said  Ned,  raising  his  hand  to  his  ear  in  token 
of  deafness,  and  bending  his  head  to  the  speaker. 

"  Mr.  Noah  Bills,"  repeated  the  little  man  loud 
enough  to  disturb  the  two  couple  immediately  before 
him. 

"  Mrs.  Noel's  Bill !"  said  Ned,  with  mortification  and 
astonishment.  "  Do  the  white  persons  pay  such  respect 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  47 

to  niggers  in  Savannah  ?  /  sha'nt  do  it" — So  saying  he 
left  the  procession. 

The  little  man  was  at  first  considerably  nettled ;  but 
upon  being  left  to  his  own  reflections,  he  got  into  an  un 
controllable  fit  of  laughter,  as  did  the  couple  immedi 
ately  in  advance  of  him,  who  overheard  Ned's  remark. 
The  procession  now  exhibited  a  most  mortifying  specta 
cle — The  head  of  it  in  mourning  and  in  tears,  and  the 
foot  of  it  convulsed  with  laughter. 

On  Monday,  Ned  employed  himself  in  disposing  of 
the  business  which  brought  him  to  Savannah,  and  I  saw 
but  little  of  him ;  but  I  could  not  step  into  the  street 
without  hearing  of  him.  All  talked  about  him,  and 
hardly  any  two  agreed  about  his  character. 

On  Tuesday  he  visited  the  Market,  and  set  it  all  in 
astonishment  or  laughter.  He  wanted  to  buy  something 
of  every  body,  and  some  of  every  thing  ;  but  could  not 
agree  upon  the  terms  of  a  trade,  because  he  always 
wanted  his  articles  in  such  portions  and  numbers,  as  no 
one  would  sell,  or  upon  conditions  to  which  no  one  would 
submit.  To  give  a  single  example — He  beset  an  old 
negro  woman  to  sell  him  the  half  of  a  living  chicken. 

"  Do  my  good  mauma,  sell  it  to  me,"  said  he,  "  my 
wife  is  very  sick,  and  is  longing  for  chicken  pie,  and 
this  is  all  the  money  I  have,"  (holding  out  twelve  and 
a  half  cents  in  silver,)  "  and  its  just  what  a  half  chicken 
comes  to  at  your  own  price." 

"  Ki,  massa !    How  gwine  cut  live  chicken  in  two  ?" 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  cut  it  in  two  alive — kill  it,  clean 
it,  and  then  divide  it." 

"  Name  o'  God  !  What  sort  o'  chance  got  to  clean 
chicken  in  de  market-house  ! — Whay  de  water  for  scall 
urn,  and  wash  um  ?" 

"  Don't  scald  it  at  all ;  just  pick  it  so." 


48  GEORGIA   SCENES,  fcC. 

"  Ech-ech  !  Fedder  fly  all  ober  de  buckera-man 
meat,  he  come  bang  me  fo'  true — No  massa,  I  mighty 
sorry  for  your  wife,  but  I  no  cutty  chicken  open." 

In  the  afternoon,  Ned  entered  the  dining  room  of  the 
tavern,  and  who  should  he  find  there  but  Monsieur  San- 
eric,  of  oyster-house  memory.  He  and  the  tavern- 
keeper  were  alone.  With  the  first  glimpse  of  Ned,  "  La 
diable,"  exclaimed  the  Frenchman,  "here  my  broder 
Ichbod  gain  !" — and  away  he  went. 

"Mr.  Sancric  !"  said  the  landlord,  calling  to  him  as 
if  to  tell  him  something  just  thought  of,  and  following 
him  out,  "  What  did  you  say  that  man's  name  is  ?" 

"  He  name  Monsieur  Snotborg." 

"  Why  that  can't  be  his  name,  for  it  begins  with  a  B. 
or  an  R.  Where  is  he  from  ?" 

«  From  Sand  Creek." 

"  Where  did  you  know  him  ?" 

"  Begar,  me  neber  did  know  him."  Here  Ned  saun 
tered  in  sight  of  the  Frenchman,  and  he  vanished. 

"  Well,"  said  the  landlord,  as  he  returned,  "  it  does 
seem  to  me,  that  every  body  who  has  anything  to  do 
with  that  man,  runs  crazy  forthwith." 

When  he  entered  the  dining  room  he  found  Ned  deeply 
engaged  reading  a  child's  primer,  with  which  he  seemed 
wonderfully  delighted.  The  landlord  sat  for  a  moment, 
smiled,  and  then  hastily  left  the  room.  As  soon  as  he 
disappeared,  Ned  laid  down  his  book,  and  took  his  station 
behind  some  cloaks  in  the  bar,  which  at  the  moment  was 
deserted.  He  had  just  reached  his  place,  when  the 
landlord  returned  with  his  lady. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  first,  "  he's  gone !  I  brought  you  in  to 
show  you  what  kiod  of  books  your  man  of  *  refined 
feelings  and  highly  cultivated  mind'  delights  in — But 
he  has  left  his  book,  and  here  it  is,  opened  at  the  place 
where  he  left  off — and  do  let's  see  what's  in  it  ?" 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  49 

They  examined,  and  found  that  he  had  been  reading 
the  interesting  poem  of  *  Little  Jack  Horner.' 

"  Now,"  continued  the  landlord,  "  if  you'll  believe 
me,  he  was  just  as  much  delighted  with  that  story,  as 
you  or  I  would  be  with  the  best  written  number  of  the 
Spectator." 

"  Well,  it's  very  strange,"  said  Mrs.  Blank — 
«  I  reckon  he  must  be  flighty,  for  no  man  could  have 
made  a  more  gentlemanly  apology  than  he  did  to  me, 
for  his  peculiarities ;  and  no  one  could  have  urged  it 
more  feelingly." 

"One  thing  is  very  certain,"  said  the  husband, 
"  if  he  be  not  flighty  himself,  he  has  a  wonderful 
knack  of  making  every  body  else  so.  Sancric  ran 
away  from  him  just  now,  as  if  he  had  seen  the  devil — 
called  him  by  one  name  when  he  left  the  room,  by 
another  at  the  door,  told  me  where  he  came  from,  and 
finally  swore  he  did  not  know  him  at  all." 

Ned  having  slipt  softly  from  the  bar  into  the  entry, 
during  this  interview,  entered  the  dining  room,  as  if  from 
the  street. 

"  I  am  happy,"  said  he,  smiling,  to  meet  you 
together  and  alone,  upon  the  eve  of  my  departure  from 
Savannah,  that  I  may  explain  to  you  my  singular  con 
duct,  and  ask  your  forgiveness  of  it.  I  will  do  so  if  you 
will  not  expose  my  true  character  until  I  shall  have  left 
the  city."  . 

This  they  promised — "  My  name  then,"  con 
tinued  he,  "  is  Edward  Brace,  of  Richmond  county. 
Humor  lias  been  my  besetting  sin  from  my  youth,  up. 
It  has  sunk  me  far  below  the  station  to  which  my  native 
gifts  entitled  me.  It  has  robbed  me  of  the  respect  of  all 
my  acquaintances ;  and  what  is  much  more  to  be  regret 
ted,  the  esteem  of  some  of  my  best  and  most  indulgent 
friends.  All  this  I  have  long  known,  and  I  have  a  thou- 


5<)  GEORGIA   SCfcNfcS,  &C. 


sand  times  deplored,  and  as  often  resolved  to  conquer, 
my  self-destroying  propensity.  *  But  so  deeply  is  it 
wrought  into  my  very  nature  —  so  completely  and  indis- 
solubly  interwoven  is  it,  with  every  fibre  and  filament 
of  my  being,  that  I  have  found  it  impossible  for  me  to 
subdue  it.  Being  on  my  first  visit  to  Savannah,  unknow 
ing  and  unknown,  I  could  not  forego  the  opportunity 
which  it  furnished,  of  gratifying  my  ungovernable  pro 
clivity.  All  the  extravagancies  which  you  have  seen, 
have  been  in  subservience  to  it." 

He  then  explained  the  cause  of  his  troubling  the 
kind  lady  before  him,  to  give  him  his  meals  at  his  room, 
and  the  strange  conduct  of  Monsieur  Sancric  ;  at  which 
they  both  laughed  heartily.  He  referred  them  to  me 
for  confirmation  of  what  he  had  told  them.  Having  gone 
thus  far,  continued  he,  "  I  must  sustain  my  character 
until  to-morrow,  when  I  shall  leave  Savannah." 

Having  now  two  more  to  enjoy  his  humor  with  him 
and  myself,  he  let  himself  loose  that  night  among  the 
boarders,  with  all  his  strength,  and  never  did  I  see  two 
mortals  laugh,  as  did  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blank. 

Far  as  I  have  extended  this  sketch,  I  cannot  close, 
without  exhibiting  Ned  in  one  new  scene,  in  which  ac 
cident  placed  him  before  he  left  Savannah. 

About  2  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  our  departure,  the 
town  was  alarmed  by  the  cry  of  fire.  Ned  got  up  be 
fore  nle,  and  taking  one  of  my  boots  from  the  door,  and 
putting  one  of  his  in  its  place,  he  marched  down  to  the 
front  door  with  odd  boots.  On  coming  out  and  finding 
what  had  been  done,  I  knew  that  Ned  could  not  have  left 
the  house,  for  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  wear  my  boot. 
I  was  about  descending  the  stairs,  when  he  called  to  me 
from  the  front  door,  and  said  the  servant  had  mixed  our 
boots,  and  that  he  had  brought  down  one  of  mine.  When 
I  reached  the  front  door,  I  found  Ned  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  51 

Blank  there  ;  all  the  inmates  of  the  house  having  left  it, 
who  designed  to  leave  it,  but  Ned  and  myself. 

"  Don't  go  and  leave  me  Hall,"  said  he,  holding  my 
boot  in  his  hand,  and  having  his  own  on  his  leg. 

"  How  can  I  leave  you,"  said  I, "  unless  you'll  give  me 
my  boot  ?"  This  he  did  not  seem  to  hear. 

u  Do  run  gentlemen,"  said  Mrs.  Blank  greatly  alarmed 
— "  Mr.  Brace,  you've  got  Mr.  Hall's  boot,  give  it  to 
him." 

"  In  a  minute  madam,"  said  he,  seeming  to  be  beside 
himself.  A  second  after,  however,  all  was  explained  to 
me.  He  designed  to  have  my  company  to  the  fire,  and 
his  own  fun  before  he  went. 

A  man  came  posting  along  in  great  alarm,  and  crying 
"fire"  loudly.  "  Mister,  Mister,"  said  Ned,  jumping 
out  of  the  house. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  man,  stopping  and  puffing  awfully. 

"Have  you  seen  Mr.  Peleg  Q.  C.  Stone,"  along 
where  you've  been  ?"  enquired  Ned,  with  anxious  solici 
tude. 

"  D — n  Mr.  Peleg  Q.  C.  Stone,"  said  the  stranger, — 
"  What  chance  have  I  of  seeing  any  body,  hopping  up 
at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  the  town  a  fire  !"  and 
on  he  went. 

Thus  did  he  amuse  himself  with  various  questions  and 
remarks,  to  four  or  five  passengers,  until  even  Mrs. 
Blank  forgot  for  a  while,  that  the  town  was  in  flames. 
The  last  object  of  his  sport,  was  a  woman  who  came 
along,  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  its  Mr.  Dalby's  house — I'm 
sure  it  is  Mr.  Dalby's  house  !"  Two  gentlemen  assured 
her,  that  the  fire  was  far  beyond  Mr.  Dalby's  house  ;  but 
still  she  went  on  with  her  exclamations.  When  she  had 
passed  the  door  about  ten  steps,  Ned  permitted  me  to 
cover  my  frozen  foot  with  my  boot,  and  we  moved  on 
towards  the  fire.  We  soon  overtook  the  woman  just 


52  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

mentioned,  who  had  become  somewhat  pacified.  As 
Ned  came  along  side  of  her,  without  seeming  to  notice 
her,  he  observed  "  Poor  Dalby,  I  see  his  house  is  gone." 

"I  said  so,"  she  screamed  out — "I  knew  it!" — and 
on  she  went,  screaming  ten  times  louder  than  before. 

As  soon  as  we  reached  the  fire,  a  gentleman  in  military 
dress  rode  up  and  ordered  Ned  into  the  line,  to  hand 
buckets.  Ned  stept  in,  and  the  first  bucket  that  was 
handed  to  him,  he  raised  it  very  deliberately  to  his  mouth, 
and  began  to  drink.  In  a  few  seconds,  all  on  Ned's 
right,  were  overburdened  with  buckets,  and  calling  loudly 
for  relief,  while  those  on  his  left  were  unemployed.  Ter 
rible  was  the  cursing  and  clamor,  and  twenty  voices  at 
once  ordered  Ned  out  of  the  line.  Ned  stept  out,  and 
along  came  the  man  on  horse  back,  and  ordered  him  in 
again. 

"  Captain,"  said  Ned,  "  I  am  so  thirsty  that  I  can  do 
nothing  until  I  can  get  some  water,  and  they  will  not  let 
me  drink  in  the  line." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Captain,  "  step  in,  and  I'll  see  that 
you  get  a  drink." 

Ned  stept  in  again,  and  receiving  the  first  bucket,  be 
gan  to  raise  it  to  his  lips  very  slowly,  when  some  one 
halloed  to  him  to  pass  on  the  bucket,  and  he  brought  it 
down  again,  and  handed  it  on. 

"  Why  did'nt  you  drink,"  said  the  Captain  ? 

"  Why  don't  you  see  they  won't  let  me  ?"  said  Ned. 

"  Don't  mind  what  they  say — drink,  and  then  go  on 
with  your  work." 

Ned  took  the  next  bucket,  and  commenced  raising  it 
as  before,  when  some  one  again  ordered  him  to  pass  on 
the  bucket. 

"  There,"  said  Ned,  turning  to  the  Captain,  with  the 
bucket  half-raised,  "  you  hear  that  ?" 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  53 

«  Why,  blast  your  eyes,  said  the  Captain,  what  do  you 
stop  for  ?    Drink  on  and  have  done  with  it." 

Ned  raised  the  bucket  to  his  lips  and  drank,  or  pre 
tended  to  drink,  until  a  horse  might  have  been  satisfied. 
'    "  Ain't  you  done  ?"  said  the  Captain,  general  mutiny 
and  complaint  beginning  to  prevail  in  the  line. 

"  Why  ha'nt  you  drank  enough  ?"  said  the  Captain, 
becoming  extremely  impatient. 

«  Most,"  said  Ned,  letting  out  a  long  breath,  and  still 
holding  the  bucket  near  his  lips. 

"  Zounds  and  blood  !"  cried  the    Captain,    "  clear 
yourself— you'll  drink  an  engine  full  of  water." 

Ned  left   the  ranks,  and  went  to  his  lodgings ;   and 
the  rising  sun  found  us  on  our  way  homeward. 

HALL. 


THE  FIGHT. 

In  the  younger  days  of  the  Republic,  there  lived  in 

the  county  of ,  two  men,  who  were  admitted  on 

all  hands  to  be  the  very  best  men  in  the  county — which, 
in  the  Georgia  vocabulary,  means  they  could  flog  any 
other  two  men  in  the  county.  Each,  through  many  a 
hard  fought  battle,  had  acquired  the  mastery  of  his  own 
battalion  ;  but  they  lived  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Court 
House,  and  in  different  battalions:  consequently  they 
were  but  seldom  thrown  together.  When  they  met,  how 
ever,  they  were  always  very  friendly  ;  indeed,  at  their 
first  interview,  they  seemed  to  conceive  a  wonderful  at- 


54  ftEORGIA    SCENES,   &C. 

tachment  to  each  other,  which  rather  increased  than  di 
minished,  as  they  became  better  acquainted  ;  so  that,  but 
for  the  circumstance  which  I  am  about  to  mention,  the 
question  which  had  been  a  thousand  times  asked  "  Which 
is  the  best  man,  Billy  Stallions,  (Stallings,)  or  Bob  Dur 
ham?"  would  probably  never  have  been  answered. 

Billy  ruled  the  upper  battalion,  and  Bob  the  lower. 
The  former  measured  six  feet  and  an  inch,  in  his  stock 
ings,  and  without  a  single  pound  of  cumbrous  flesh  about 
him  weighed  a  hundred  and  eighty.  The  latter,  was  an 
inch  shorter  than  his  rival,  and  ten  pounds  lighter  ;  but 
he  was  much  the  most  active  of  the  two.  In  running 
and  jumping,  he  had  but  few  equals  in  the  county  ;  and 
in  wrestling,  not  one.  In  other  respects  they  were  nearly 
equal.  Both  were  admirable  specimens  of  human  nature 
in  its  finest  form.  Billy's  victories  had  generally  been 
achieved  by  the  tremendous  power  of  his  blows  ;  one  of 
which  had  often  proved  decisive  of  his  battles ;  Bob's, 
by  his  adroitness  in  bringing  his  adversary  to  the  ground. 
This  advantage  he  had  never  failed  to  gain,  at  the  onset, 
and  when  gained,  he  never  failed  to  improve  it  to  the 
defeat  of  his  adversary.  These  points  of  difference, 
have  involved  the  reader  in  a  doubt,  as  to  the  probable 
issue  of  a  contest  between  them.  It  was  not  so,  how 
ever,  with  the  two  battalions.  Neither  had  the  least 
difficulty  in  determining  the  point  by  the  most  natural 
and  irresistible  deductions  a  priori :  and  though,  by  the 
same  course  of  reasoning,  they  arrived  at  directly  oppo 
site  conclusions,  neither  felt  its  confidence  in  the  least 
shaken  by  this  circumstance.  The  upper  battalion 
swore  "  that  Billy  only  wanted  one  lick  at  him  to  knock 
his  heart,  liver  and  lights  out  of  him  ;  and  if  he  got  two 
at  him,  he'd  knock  him  into  a  cocked  hat."  The  lower 
battalion  retorted,  "  that  he  would'nt  have  time  to  double 
his  fist,  before  Bob  would  put  his  head  where  his  feet 


GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C.  55 

ought  to  be ;  and  that,  by  the  time  he  hit  the  ground,  the 
meat  would  fly  oft'  his  face  so  quick,  that  people  would 
think  it  was  shook  off  by  the  fall."  These  disputes 
often  lead  to  the  argumentum  ad  hominem ;  but  with 
such  equality  of  success  on  both  sides,  as  to  leave  the 
main  question  just  where  they  found  it.  They  usually 
ended,  however,  in  the  common  way,  with  a  bet  ;  and 
many  a  quart  of  old  Jamaica,  (whiskey  had  not  then 
supplanted  rum,)  were  staked  upon  the  issue.  Still, 
greatly  to  the  annoyance  of  the  curious,  Billy  and  Bob 
continued  to  be  good  friends. 

Now  there  happened  to  reside  in  the  county,  just  allu 
ded  to,  a  little  fellow,  by  the  name  of  Ransy  Sniffle  :  a 
sprout  of  Richmond,  who,  in  his  earlier  days,  had  fed 
copiously  upon  red  clay  and  blackberries.  This  diet  had 
given  to  Ransy  a  complexion  that  a  corpse  would  have 
disdained  to  own,  and  an  abdominal  rotundity  that  was 
quite  unprepossessing.  Long  spells  of  the  fever  and 
ague,  too,  in  Ransy's  youth,  had  conspired  with  clay  and 
blackberries,  to  throw  him  quite  out  of  the  order  of  na 
ture.  His  shoulders  were  fleshless  and  elevated ;  his 
head  large  and  flat ;  his  neck  slim  and  translucent ;  and 
his  arms,  hands,  fingers  and  feet,  were  lengthened  out  of 
all  proportion  to  the  rest  of  his  frame.  His  joints  were 
large,  and  his  limbs  small ;  and  as  for  flesh,  he  could 
not  with  propriety  be  said  to  have  any.  Those  parts 
which  nature  usually  supplies  with  the  most  of  this  arti 
cle — the  calves  of  the  legs  for  example — presented  in  him 
the  appearance  of  so  many  well  drawn  blisters.  His 
height  was  just  five  feet  nothing  ;  and  his  average  weight 
in  blackberry  season,  ninety -five.  I  have  been  thus 
particular  in  describing  him,  for  the  purpose  of  showing 
what  a  great  matter  a  little  fire  sometimes  kindleth. 
There  was  nothing  on  this  earth  which  delighted  Ransy 
so  much  as  a  fight.  He  never  seemed  fairly  alive,  ex- 


56  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

cept  when  he  was  witnessing,  fomenting,  or  talking  about 
a  fight.  Then,  indeed,  his  deep  sunken  grey  eye,  as 
sumed  something  of  a  living  fire  ;  and  his  tongue  acquir 
ed  a  volubility  that  bordered  upon  eloquence.  Ransy 
had  been  kept  for  more  than  a  year  in  the  most  tortur 
ing  suspense,  as  to  the  comparative  manhood  of  Billy 
Stallings  and  Bob  Durham.  He  had  resorted  to  all  his 
usual  expedients  to  bring  them  in  collision,  and  had  en 
tirely  failed.  He  had  faithfully  reported  to  Bob  all  that 
had  been  said  by  the  people  in  the  upper  battalion  "  agin 
him,"  and  "  he  was  sure  Billy  Stallings  started  it.  He 
heard  Bill  say  himself,  to  Jim  Brown,  that  he  could  whip 
him,  or  any  other  man  in  his  battalion  ;"  and  this  he  told 
to  Bob — adding,  "  Dod  durn  his  soul,  if  he  was  a  little 
bigger,  if  he'd  let  any  man  put  upon  his  battalion  in 
such  a  way."  Bob  replied,  "  If  he,  (Stallings)  thought 
so,  he'd  better  come  and  try  it."  This  Ransy  carried 
to  Billy,  and  delivered  it  with  a  spirit  becoming  his  own 
dignity,  and  the  character  of  his  battalion,  and  with  a 
coloring  well  calculated  to  give  it  effect.  These,  and 
many  other  schemes  which  Ransy  laid,  for  the  gratifi 
cation  of  his  curiosity,  entirely  failed  of  their  object. 
Billy  and  Bob  continued  friends,  and  Ransy  had  began 
to  lapse  into  the  most  tantalizing  and  hopeless  despair, 
when  a  circumstance  occurred,  which  led  to  a  settle 
ment  of  the  long  disputed  question. 

It  is  said  that  a  hundred  game  cocks  will  live  in  per 
fect  harmony  together,  if  you  will  not  put  a  hen  with 
them  :  and  so  it  would  have  been  with  Billy  and  Bob, 
had  there  been  no  women  in  the  world.  But  there  were 
women  in  the  world,  and  from  them,  each  of  our  heroes 
had  taken  to  himself  a  wife*  The  good  ladies  were  no 
strangers  to  the  prowess  of  their  husbands,  and  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  they  presumed  a  little  upon  it. 

The  two  battalions  had  met  at  the  Court  House,  upon 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  57 

a  regimental  parade.  The  two  champions  were  there, 
and  their  wives  had  accompanied  them.  Neither  knew 
the  other's  lady,  nor  were  the  ladies  known  to  each 
other.  The  exercises  of  the  day  were  just  over,  when 
Mrs.  Stallings  and  Mrs.  Durham  stept  simultaneously 
into  the  store  of  Zepheniah  At  water,  from  "down  east." 

"  Have  you  any  Turkey -red  ?"  said  Mrs.  S. 

"  Have  you  any  curtain  calico  ?"  said  Mrs,  D.  at  the 
same  moment. 

"  Yes,  ladies,"  said  Mr.  Atwater,  "I  have  both." 

"  Then  help  me  first,"  said  Mrs.  D.,  "  for  I'm  in  a 
hurry." 

"  Fm  in  as  great  a  hurry  as  she  is,"  said  Mrs.  S.,  "  and 
I'll  thank  you  to  help  me  first." 

"And  pray,  who  are  you,  madam!"  continued  the 
other. 

"  Your  betters,  madam,"  was  the  reply. 

At  this  moment  Billy  Stallings  stept  in.  "  Come," 
said  he,  "  Nancy,  lets  be  going  ;  it's  getting  late." 

"  I'd  o'  been  gone  half  an  hour  ago,"  she  replied,  "  if 
it  had'nt  o'  been  for  that  impudent  huzzy." 

"  Who  do  you  call  an  impudent  huzzy  ?  you  nasty, 
good-for-nothing,  snaggle-toothed  gaub  of  fat,  you," 
returned  Mrs.  D. 

"  Look  here  woman,"  said  Billy,  "  have  you  got  a 
husband  here  ?  If  you  have,  I'll  lick  him  till  he  learns 
to  teach  you  better  manners,  you  sassy  heifer  you." 
At  this  moment  something  was  seen  to  rush  out  of  the 
store,  as  if  ten  thousand  hornets  were  stinging  it ;  crying 
"  Take  care — let  me  go — don't  hold  me— where's  Bob 
Durham  ?"  It  was  Ransy  Sniffle,  who  had  been  listen 
ing  in  breathless  delight,  to  all  that  had  passed. 

"  Yonder's  Bob,  setting  on  the  Court-house  steps," 
cried  one.  "  What's  the  matter  ?" 

"Don't  talk  to  me!"  said  Ransy.      "  Bob  Durham, 


58  GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C. 

you'd  better  go  long  yonder,  and  take  care  of  your 
wife.  They're  playing  h — 1  with  her  there,  in  Zeph. 
Atwater's  store.  Dod  deternally  durn  my  soul,  if 
any  man  was  to  talk  to  my  wife  as  Bill  Stallions 
is  talking  to  yours,  if  I  did'nt  drive  blue  blazes  through 
him  in  less  than  no  time." 

Bob  sprang  to  the  store  in  a  minute,  followed  by  a 
hundred  friends  ;  for  the  bully  of  a  county  never  wants 
friends. 

"  Bill  Stallions,"  said  Bob,  as  he  entered,  "  what  have 
you  been  saying  to  my  wife  ?" 

"  Is  that  your  wife  ?"  inquired  Billy,  obviously  much 
surprised,  and  a  little  disconcerted. 

"  Yes,  she  is,  and  no  man  shall  abuse  her,  I  don't  care 
who  he  is." 

"  Well,"  rejoined  Billy,  "  it  an't  worth  while  to  go 
over  it — I've  said  enough  for  a  fight  :  and  if  you'll  step 
out,  we'll  settle  it !" 

"  Billy,"  said  Bob,  "  are  you  for  a  fair  fight  ?" 

"  I  am,"  said  Billy.  "  I've  heard  much  of  your  man 
hood,  and  I  believe  I'm  a  better  man  than  you  are.  If 
you  will  go  into  a  ring  with  me,  we  can  soon  settle  the 
dispute." 

"  Choose  your  friends,"  said  Bob  ;  "  make'  your  ring, 
and  I'll  be  in  it  with  mine,  as  soon  as  you  will." 

They  both  stept  out,  and  began  to  strip  very  deliber 
ately  ;  each  battalion  gathering  round  its  champion — 
except  Ransy,  who  kept  himself  busy,  in  a  most  honest 
endeavor  to  hear  and  see  all  that  transpired  in  both 
groups,  at  the  same  time.  He  ran  from  one  to  the  other, 
in  quick  succession — peeped  here,  and  listened  there — 
talked  to  this  one — then  to  that  one — and  then  to  him 
self — squatted  under  one's  legs,  and  another's  arms  ; 
and  in  the  short  interval  between  stripping  and  stepping 
into  the  ring,  managed  to  get  himself  trod  on  by  half  of 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C,  59 

both  battalions.  But  Ransy  was  not  the  only  one  inter 
ested  upon  this  occasion : — the  most  intense  interest  pre 
vailed  every  where.  Many  were  the  conjectures, 
doubts,  oaths  and  imprecations  uttered,  while  the  par 
ties  were  preparing  for  the  combat.  All  the  know 
ing  ones  were  consulted  as  to  the  issue  ;  and  they  all 
agreed  to  a  man,  in  one  of  two  opinions  :  either  that 
Bob  would  flog  Billy,  or  Billy  would  flog  Bob.  We 
must  be  permitted,  however,  to  dwell  for  a  moment  upon 
the  opinion  of  'Squire  Thomas  Loggins ;  a  man,  who  it 
was  said,  had  never  failed  to  predict  the  issue  of  a  fight,  in 
all  his  life.  Indeed,  so  unerring  had  he  always  proved, 
in  this  regard,  that  it  would  have  been  counted  the  most 
obstinate  infidelity,  to  doubt  for  a  moment,  after  he  had 
delivered  himself.  'Squire  Loggins  was  a  man  who 
said  but  little  ;  but  that  little  was  always  delivered  with 
the  most  imposing  solemnity  of  look  and  cadence.  He 
always  wore  the  aspect  of  profound  thought,  and  you 
could  not  look  at  him  without  coming  to  the  conclusion, 
that  he  was  elaborating  truth  from  its  most  intricate 
combinations. 

"  Uncle  Tommy,"  said  Sam  Reynolds,  "  you  can  tell 
us  all  about  it,  if  you  will — how  will  the  fight  go  ?" 

The  question  immediately  drew  an  anxious  group 
around  the  'Squire.  He  raised  his  teeth  slowly  from 
the  head  of  his  walking  cane,  on  which  they  had  been 
resting — pressed  his  lips  closely  and  thoughtfully  to 
gether — threw  down  his  eye  brows — dropped  his  chin — 
raised  his  eyes  to  an  angle  of  twenty  three  degrees — 
paused  about  half  a  minute,  and  replied  :  "  Sammy, 
watch  Robert  Durham  close  in  the  beginning  of  the  fight 
—take  care  of  William  Stallions  in  the  middle  of  it 

and  see  who  has  the  wind  at  the  end."  As  he 

uttered  the  last  member  of  the  sentence,  he  looked  slily 
at  Bob's  friends,  and  winked  very  significantly  ;  where- 


60  GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C. 

upon  they  rushed,  with  one  accord,  to  tell  Bob  what 
uncle  Tommy  had  said.  As  they  retired,  the  'Squire 
turned  to  Billy's  friends,  and  said,  with  a  smile  :  "  Them 
boys  think  I  mean  that  Bob  will  whip." 

Here  the  other  party  kindled  into  joy,  and  hastened 
to  inform  Billy  how  Bob's  friends  had  deceived  them 
selves  as  to  Uncle  Tommy's  opinion.  In  the  meantime, 
the  principals  and  seconds,  were  busily  employed  in  pre 
paring  themselves  for  the  combat.  The  plan  of  attack 
and  defence,  the  manner  of  improving  the  various  turns 
of  the  conflict,  "  the  best  mode  of  saving  wind,"  &c.  &c. 
were  all  discussed  and  settled.  At  length,  Billy  an 
nounced  himself  ready,  and  his  crowd  were  seen  mov 
ing  to  the  centre  of  the  Court  House  Square ;  he  and 
his  five  seconds  in  the  rear.  At  the  same  time,  Bob's 
party  moved  to  the  same  point,  and  in  the  same  order. 
The  ring  was  now  formed,  and  for  a  moment  the  silence 
of  death  reigned  through  both  battalions.  It  was  soon 
interrupted,  however,  by  the  cry  of  "  clear  the  way !" 
from  Billy's  seconds  ;  when  the  ring  opened  in  the  centre 
of  the  upper  battalion,  (for  the  order  of  march  had  ar 
ranged  the  centre  of  the  two  battalions  on  opposite  sides 
of  the  circle,)  and  Billy  stept  into  the  ring  from  the  east, 
followed  by  his  friends.  He  was  stript  to  the  trowsers, 
ana  exhibited  an  arm,  breast  and  shoulders,  of  the  most 
tremendous  portent.  His  step  was  firm,  daring  and 
martial ;  and  as  he  bore  his  fine  form  a  little  in  advance 
of  his  friends,  an  involuntary  burst  of  triumph  broke 
from  his  side  of  the  ring  ;  and  at  the  same  moment,  an 
uncontrollable  thrill  of  awe,  ran  along  the  whole  curve 
of  the  lower  battalion. 

"  Look  at  him  !"  was  heard  from  his  friends — "  just 
look  at  him." 

"  Ben,  how  much  you  ask  to  stand  before  that  man 
two  seconds  ?" 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  61 

"  Pshaw,  don't  talk  about  it !  Just  thinkin*  about  it  's 
broke  three  o'  my  ribs  already  !" 

"  What's  Bob  Durham  going  to  do,  when  Billy  let's 
that  arm  loose  upon  him  ?" 

"  God  bless  your  soul,  he'll  think  thunder  and  light 
ning  a  mint  julip  to  it." 

"  Oh,  look  here  men,  go  take  Bill  Stallions  out  o*  that 
ring,  and  bring  in  Phil  Johnson's  stud  horse,  so  that  Dur 
ham  may  have  some  chance  !  I  don't  want  to  see  the 
man  killed  right  away." 

These  and  many  other  like  expressions,  interspersed 
thickly  with  oaths  of  the  most  modern  coinage,  were 
coming  from  all  points  of  the  upper  battalion,  while  Bob 
was  adjusting  the  girth  of  his  pantaloons,  which  walking 
had  discovered,  not  to  be  exactly  right.  It  was  just 
fixed  to  his  mind,  his  foes  becoming  a  little  noisy,  and 
his  friends  a  little  uneasy  at  his  delay,  when  Billy  called 
out,  with  a  smile  of  some  meaning,  "  Where's  the  bully 
of  the  lower  battalion  ?  I'm  getting  tired  of  waiting." 

"  Here  he  is,"  said  Bob,  lighting,  as  it  seemed  from 
the  clouds  in  the  ring,  for  he  had  actually  bounded  clear 
of  the  head  of  Ransy  Sniffle,  into  the  circle.  His  des 
cent  was  quite  as  imposing  as  Billy's  entry,  and  excited 
the  same  feelings,  but  in  opposite  bosoms. 

Voices  of  exultation  now  rose  on  his  side. 

"  Where  did  he  come  from  ?" 

"  Why,"  said  one  of  his  seconds,  (all  having  just  en 
tered,)  "  we  were  girting  him  up,  about  a  hundred  yards 
out  yonder,  when  he  heard  Billy  ask  for  the  bully ;  and 
he  fetched  a  leap  over  the  Court  House,  and  went  out  of 
sight ;  but  I  told  them  to  come  on,  they'd  find  him  here." 

Here  the  lower  battalion  burst  into  a  peal  of  laughter, 
mingled  with  a  look  of  admiration,  which  seemed  to  de 
note  their  entire  belief  of  what  they  had  heard. 


62  GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C. 

"  Boys  widen  the  ring,  so  as  to  give  him  room  to 
jump." 

"  Oh,  my  little  flying  wild  cat,  hold  him  if  you  can  ! 
and  when  you  get  him  fast,  hold  lightning  next." 

"  Ned  what  you  think  he's  made  of?" 

"  Steel-springs  and  chicken-hawk,  God  bless  you  !" 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  one  of  Bob's  seconds,  "  I  under 
stand  it  is  to  be  a  fair  fight ;  catch  as  catch  can,  rough 
and  tumble  : — no  man  touch  'till  one  or  the  other  hollos." 

"  That's  the  rule,"  was  the  reply  from  the  other 
side. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?" 

"  We  are  ready." 

"  Then  blaze  away  my  game  cocks  !" 

At  the  word,  Bob  dashed  at  his  antagonist  at  full  speed  ; 
and  Bill  squared  himself  to  receive  him  with  one  of  his 
most  fatal  blows.  Making  his  calculation  from  Bob's 
velocity,  of  the  time  when  he  would  come  within  striking 
distance,  he  let  drive  with  tremendous  force.  But  Bob's 
onset  was  obviously  planned  to  avoid  this  blow  ;  for  con- 
trary  to  all  expectations,  he  stopt  short  just  out  of  arms 
reach ;  and  before  Billy  could  recover  his  balance — 
Bob  had  him  "  all  under-bold."  The  next  second,  sure 
enough,  "  found  Billy's  head  where  his  feet  ought  to  be." 
How  it  was  done,  no  one  could  tell ;  but  as  if  by  super 
natural  power,  both  Billy's  feet  were  thrown  full  half 
his  own  height  in  the  air,  and  he  came  down  with  a  force 
that  seemed  to  shake  the  earth.  As  he  struck  the 
ground,  commingled  shouts,  screams  and  yells  burst 
from  the  lower  battalion,  loud  enough  to  be  heard  for 
miles.  "  Hurra  my  little  hornet !" — "  Save  him  !" — 
"  Feed  him ! — Give  him  the  Durham  physic  till  his  stom 
ach  turns  !"  Billy  was  no  sooner  down  than  Bob  was 
on  him,  and  lending  him  awful  blows  about  the  face  and 
breast.  Billy  made  two  efforts  to  rise  by  main  strength, 


GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C.  63 

but  failed.     "  Lord  bless  you  man,  don't  try  to  get  up  ! 
— Lay  still  and  take  it ! — you  Ueege  to  have  it." 

Billy  now  turned  his  face  suddenly  to  the  ground,  and 
rose  upon  his  hands  and  knees.  Bob  jerked  up  both  his 
hands  and  threw  him  on  his  face.  He  again  recovered 
his  late  position,  of  which  Bob  endeavored  to  deprive 
him  as  before ;  but  missing  one  arm,  he  failed,  and 
Billy  rose.  But  he  had  scarcely  resumed  his  feet  be 
fore  they  flew  up  as  before,  and  he  came  again  to  the 
ground.  "  No  fight  gentlemen  !"  cried  Bob's  friends, 
"  the  man  can't  stand  up  ! — Bouncing  feet  are  bad  things 
to  fight  in."  His  fall,  however,  was  this  time  compara 
tively  light ;  for  having  thrown  his  right  arm  round  Bob's 
neck,  he  carried  his  head  down  with  him.  This  grasp, 
which  was  obstinately  maintained,  prevented  Bob  from 
getting  on  him,  and  they  lay  head  to  head,  seeming,  for 
a  time,  to  do  nothing.  Presently  they  rose,  as  if  by  mu 
tual  consent ;  and  as  they  rose,  a  shout  broke  from  both 
' battalions.  "Oh,  my  lark!"  cried  the  east,  "has  he 
foxed  you  ?  Do  you  begin  to  feel  him  !  He's  only  be 
ginning  to  fight — He  ain't  got  warm  yet." 

"  Look  yonder  !"  cried  the  west — "  did'nt  I  tell  you 
so  !  He  hit  the  ground  so  hard,  it  jarred  his  nose  off. 
Now  ain't  he  a  pretty  man  as  he  stands  ?  He  shall 
have  my  sister  Sail  just  for  his  pretty  looks.  I  want  to 
get  in  the  breed  of  them  sort  o'  men,  to  drive  ugly  out 
of  my  kin  folks." 

I  looked  and  saw  that  Bob  had  entirely  lost  his  left 
ear,  and  a  large  piece  from  his  left  cheek.  His  right 
eye  was  a  little  discolored,  and  the  blood  flowed  pro 
fusely  from  his  wounds. 

Bill  presented  a  hideous  spectacle.  About  a  third  of 
his  nose,  at  the  lower  extremity,  was  bit  off,  and  his  face 
so  swelled  and  bruised,  that  it  was  difficult  to  discover 


,64  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

in  it  any  thing  of  the  human  visage — much  more  the  fine 
features  which  he  carried  into  the  ring. 

They  were  up  only  long  enough  for  me  to  make  the 
foregoing  discoveries,  when  down  they  went  again,  pre 
cisely  as  before.  They  no  sooner  touched  the  ground 
than  Bill  relinquished  his  hold  upon  Bob's  neck.  In  this, 
he  seemed  to  all,  to  have  forfeited  the  only  advantage 
which  put  him  upon  an  equality  with  his  adversary. 
But  the  movement  was  soon  explained.  Bill  wanted  this 
arm  for  other  purposes  than  defence  ;  and  he  had  made 
arrangements  whereby  he  knew  that  he  could  make  it 
answer  these  purposes;  for  when  they  rose  again,  he 
had  the  middle  finger  of  Bob's  left  hand  in  his  mouth. 
He  was  now  secure  from  Bob's  annoying  trips ;  and  he 
began  to  lend  his  adversary  most  tremendous  blows, 
every  one  of  which  was  hailed  by  a  shout  from  his 
friends.  "  Bullets  ! — Hoss  kicking  ! — Thunder  !" — 
"  That'll  do  for  the  face — now  feel  his  short  ribs,  Billy  !" 

I  now  considered  the  contest  settled.  I  deemed  it  im 
possible  for  any  human  being  to  withstand  for  five 
seconds,  the  loss  of  blood  which  issued  from  Bob's  ear, 
cheek,  nose  and  finger,  accompanied  with  such  blows  as 
he  was  receiving.  Still  he  maintained  the  conflict,  and 
gave  blow  for  blow  with  considerable  effect.  But  the 
blows  of  each  became  slower  and  weaker,  after  the  first 
three  or  four  ;  and  it  became  obvious,  that  Bill  wanted 
the  room,  which  Bob's  finger  occupied,  for  breathing. 
He  would  therefore,  probably,  in  a  short  time,  have  let  it 
go,  had  not  Bob  anticipated  his  politeness,  by  jerking 
away  his  hand,  and  making  him  a  present  of  the  finger- 
He  now  seized  Bill  again,  and  brought  him  to  his  knees 
— but  he  recovered.  He  again  brought  him  to  his  knees  ; 
and  he  again  recovered.  A  third  effort,  however, 
brought  him  down,  and  Bob  on  top  of  him.  These  ef 
forts  seemed  to  exhaust  the  little  remaining  strength  of 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  65 

both  5  and  they  lay,  Bill  undermost,  and  Bob  across  his 
breast,  motionless,  and  panting  for  breath.  After  a  short 
pause,  Bob  gathered  his  hand  full  of  dirt  and  sand,  and 
was  in  the  act  of  grinding  it  in  his  adversary's  eyes, 
when  Bill  cried  "  ENOUGH  !" — Language  cannot  describe 
the  scene  which  followed — the  shouts,  oaths,  frantic  jes- 
tures,  taunts,  replies  and  little .  fights ;  and  therefore  I 
shall  not  attempt  it.  The  champions  were  borne  off 
by  their  seconds,  and  washed  :  when  many  a  bleeding 
wound,  and  ugly  bruise,  was  discovered  on  each,  which 
no  eye  had  seen  before. 

Many  had  gathered  round  Bob,  and  were  in  various 
ways  congratulating  and  applauding  him,  when  a  voice 
from  the  centre  of  the  circle  cried  out :  "  Boys,  hush 
and  listen  to  me  !"  It  proceeded  from  Squire  Loggins, 
who  had  made  his  way  to  Bob's  side,  and  had  gathered 
his  face  up  into  one  of  its  most  flattering  and  intelligible 
expressions.  All  were  obedient  to  the  Squire's  com 
mand.  "  Gentlemen,  continued  he,  with  a  most  knowing 
smile,  "  is — Sammy — Reynold — in — this — company — 
of— gentlemen."  "  Yes,"  said  Sam,  "  here  I  am." 
"  Sammy,"  said  the  Squire,  winking  to  the  company, 
and  drawing  the  head  of  his  cane  to  his  mouth  with  an 
arch  smile,  as  he  closed,  "  I — wish — you — to  tell — cou 
sin — Bobby — and — these — gentlemen  here  present — 

what — your — uncle — Tommy — said before- — the— - 

fight — began  ?"  "  Oh  !  get  away,  uncle  Tom,"  says 
Sam,  smiling,  (the  Squire  winked,)  "  you  don't  know 
nothing  about  fighting."  (The  'Squire  winked  again.) 
"  All  you  know  about  it,  is  how  it  '11  begin ;  how  it  '11  go 
on ;  how  it  '11  end ;  that's  all.  Cousin  Bob,  when  you 
going  to  fight  again,  just  go  to  the  old  man,  and  let  him 
tell  you  all  about  it.  If  he  can't,  don't  ask  nobody  else 
nothing  about  it,  I  tell  you."  The  Squire's  foresight 
was  complimented  in  many  ways  by  the  by-standers ; 

f 


66  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

and  he  retired,  advising  "the  boys  to  be   at  peace,  as 
fighting  was  a  bad  business." 

Durham  and  Staliings  kept  their  beds  for  several 
weeks,  and  did  not  meet  again  for  two  months.  When 
they  met,  Billy  stepped  up  to  Bob  and  offered  his  hand, 
saying  :  "  Bobby  you've  licked  me  a  fair  fight ;  but  you 
would'nt  have  done  it,  if  I  had'nt  been  in  the  wrong.  I 
ought'nt  to  have  treated  your  wife  as  I  did  ;  and  I  felt  so 
through  the  whole  fight ;  and  it  sort  o'  cowed  me." 

Well  B.lly,"  said  Bob,  let's  be  £  lends.  Once  in  the  fight, 
when  you  had  my  finger  in  your  mouth,  and  was  pealing 
me  in  the  face  and  breast,  I  was  going  to  hollo  ;  but  I 
thought  of  Betsy,  and  knew  the  house  would  be  too  hot 
for  me,  if  I  got  whipt,  when  fighting  for  her,  after  always 
whipping  when  I  fought  for  myself." 

"  Now,  that's  what  I  always  love  to  see,"  said  a  by- 
stander :  "  It's  true,  I  brought  about  the  fight  ;  but  I 
would'nt  have  done  it,  if  it  had'nt  o'  been  on  account  of 
Miss,  (Mrs.)  Durham.  But  dod  deternally  durn  my 
soul,  if  I  ever  could  stand  by  and  see  any  woman  put 
upon — much  less  Miss  Durham.  If  Bobby  had'nt  been 
there,  I'd  o'  took  it  up  myself,  be  durned  if  I  would'nt, 
even  if  I'd  o'  got  whipt  for  it — But  we're  all  friends 
now."  The  reader  need  hardly  be  told,  this  was  Ransy 
Sniffle. 

Thanks  to  the  Christian  religion,  to  schools,  colleges, 
and  benevolent  associations,  such  scenes  of  barbarism 
and  cruelty,  as  that  which  I  have  been  just  describing, 
are  now  of  rare  occurrence  :  though  they  may  still  be 
occasionally  met  with  in  some  of  the  new  counties. 
Wherever  they  prevail,  they  are  a  disgrace  to  that  com- 
rnunity.  The  peace  officers  who  countenance  them, 
(  eserve  a  place  in  the  Penitentiary. 

HALL. 


GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C.  67 


THE  SONG. 

It  is  not  to  avoid  the  malediction  of  Shakspeare,  upon 
such  "  as  have  not  music  in  themselves — and  are  not 
charmed  with  the  concord  of  sweet  sounds,"  that  I  pro 
fess  to  be  fond  of  music  ;  but  because  I  am,  in  truth, 
extravagantly  fond  of  it.  But  I  am  not  fond  of  French 
music  ;  and  as  for  the  Italian,  I  think  that  any  one  who 
will  dare  to  inflict  it  upon  an  American  ear,  ought  to  be 
sent  to  the  Penitentiary,  without  a  trial.  It  is  true  that 
some  of  the  simple,  national  French  airs,  are  very  fine ; 
but  there  is  not  one  in  one  thousand  Italian  tunes,  simple 
or  compound,  which  is  not  manslaughter.  The  German 
compositions  are  decidedly  the  best  from  the  continent  of 
Europe  ;  but  even  these  are,  of  late,  partaking  so  much 
of  the  vices  of  France  and  Italy,  that  they  have  become 
scarcely  sufferable.  As  yet,  however,  they  may  be 
safely  admitted  into  a  land  of  liberty  and  sense.  Scot 
land  has  escaped  the  corruptions  which  have  crept  into 
the  empire  of  music,  and  consequently  her  music  recom 
mends  itself,  with  irresistible  charms,  to  every  ear  which 
is  not  vitiated  by  the  senseless  rattle  of  the  continent. 
Ireland  is  a  little  more  contaminated ;  but  still  her  com 
positions  retain  enough  of  their  primitive  simplicity  and 
sweetness,  to  entitle  them  to  the  patronage  of  all  who 
would  cultivate  a  correct  taste  in  this  interesting  depart 
ment  of  the  fine  arts.  I  would  not  be  understood  as 
speaking  here  without  any  limitations  or  restrictions ; 
but  I  do  maintain,  that  with  some  few  exceptions,  all  of 
the  soul  of  music,  which  is  now  left  in  the  world,  is  to 
be  found  in  Scotland  or  Ireland. 


68  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

But  Germans,  Frenchmen  and  Italians,  are  decidedly 
the  best, — that  is,  the  most  expert  performers  in  the 
world.  They  perform  all  over  the  world,  and  hi  order 
to  exhibit  themselves  to  the  best  advantage,  they  select 
the  most  difficult  and  complicated  pieces.  The  people 
at  large,  presume  that  the  best  performers  must  be  the 
best  judges  of  music,  and  must  make  the  best  selections  ; 
they  therefore  forego  the  trouble  of  forming  an  opinion 
of  their  own,  and  pin  their  faith  upon  the  decisions— or 
rather  the  practice,  of  the  amateurs.  It  was  somehow 
in  this  way,  I  presume,  that  the  fashionable  music  of  the 
day,  first  obtained  currency.  Having  become  preva 
lent,  it  has  become  tolerable  ;  just  as  has  the  use  of  to- 
bacco  or  ardent  spirits.  And  while  upon  this  head,  I 
would  earnestly  recommend  to  the  friends  of  reform  in 
our  favored  country,  to  establish  an  "  Anti-mad-music 
Society,"  hi  order  to  suppress,  if  possible,  the  cruelties  of 
our  modern  musical  entertainments. 

If  the  instrumental  music  of  France  and  Italy  be  bad, 
their  vocal  music  is,  if  possible,  a  thousand  times  worse. 
Neither  the  English,  nor  the  Georgia  language,  furnishes 
me  with  a  term  expressive  of  the  horrors  of  a  French 
or  Italian  song,  as  it  is  agonized  forth  by  one  of  their 
professed  singers.  The  law  should  make  it  justifiable 
homicide  in  any  man,  to  kill  an  Italian  in  the  very  act  of 
inflicting  an  il  penseroso  upon  a  refined  American  ear. 

And  yet  with  all  the  other  European  abominations 
which  have  crept  into  our  highly  favoured  country,  the 
French  and  Italian  style  of  singing  and  playing,  has 
made  its  way  hither ;  and  it  is  not  uncommon  to  hear 
our  boarding-school  Misses  piping  away,  not  merely  in 
the  style,  but  in  the  very  language  of  these  nations. — 
This  I  can  bear  very  well,  if  there  happen  to  be  a 
Frenchman  or  Italian  present,  because  I  know  that  he 
suffers  more  from  the  words,  than  I  do  from  the  music  ; 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  69 

for  I  confess,  that  upon  such  occasions,  1  feel  something 
of  the  savage  malignity,  which  visits  the  sins  of  a  nation 
upon  any  of  its  citizens.  But  it  most  frequently  happens 
that  1  am  put  to  the  tortures  of  which  I  have  been  speak- 
ing,  without  this  mitigation.  It  was  thus  with  me  a  few 
evenings  ago,  at  Mrs.  B 's  party. 

Tea  had  been  disposed  of,  and  the  nonsensical  chit- 
chat  of  such  occasions  had  begun  to  flag,  when  I  invited 
Miss  Mary  Williams  to  the  piano.  She  rose  promptly 
at  my  request,  without  any  affected  airs,  and  with  no 
other  apology,  than  that  "  she  felt  some  diffidence  at 
playing  in  the  presence  of  Miss  Crump.11  The  piano 
was  an  admirable  one  ;  and  its  tones  were  exquisitely 
fine.  Mary  seated  herself  at  it,  and  after  a  short,  but 
beautiful  prelude,  she  commenced  one  of  Burns'  plain 
tive  songs,  to  a  tune  which  was  new  to  me,  but  which 
was  obviously  from  the  poet's  own  land,  and  by  one  who 
felt  the  inspiration  of  his  verse.  The  composer  and  the 
poet  were  both  honored  by  the  performer.  Mary's  voice 
was  inimitably  fine.  Her  enunciation  was  clear  and 
distinct,  with  just  emphasis  enough  to  give  the  verse  its 
appropriate  expression,  without  interrupting  the  melody 
of  the  music  ;  and  her  modulations  were  perfect. 

She  had  closed,  and  was  in  the  act  of  rising,  before  I 
awoke  from  the  delightful  reverie  into  which  she  had 
lulled  me.  I  arrested  her,  however,  and  insisted  upon 
her  proceeding  ;  when  she  gave  me  one  of  Allan  Ram 
sey's  best,  to  measure  equally  appropriate.  This  she 
followed  with  Tannahill's  "  Gloomy  Winter's  now  awa," 
and  was  again  retiring,  when  my  friend  Hall  observed — 
"  See  Miss  Mary,  you've  brought  a  tear  to  Mr.  Baldwin's 
eye,  and  you  must  not  cease  until  you  chase  it  away 
with  some  lively  air."  My  friend  was  right — The 
touching  pathos  of  Mary's  voice,  conspiring  with  a  train 
of  reflections,  which  the  song  inspired,  had  really  brought 


70  GEORGIA   SCENES,    fcC. 

me  to  tears.  I  thought  of  poor  Tannahill's  fate.  He 
was  the  victim  of  a  Book-seller's  stupidity.  With  men 
of  taste  and  letters,  his  fugitive  pieces,  particularly  his 
i  yrics,  had  gained  him  a  well-deserved  reputation  ;  but 
he  was  not  exempt  from  the  common  lot  of  authors.  He 
was  attacked  by  the  ignorant  and  the  invidious  ;  and 
with  the  hopeless  design  of  silencing  these,  he  prepared 
a  volume  or  more  of  his  poems,  with  great  care,  and 
sent  them  to  a  Book-seller  for  publication.  After  the 
lapse  of  several  weeks,  they  were  returned  without  a 
compliment,  or  an  offer  for  them.  The  mortification  and 
disappointment  were  too  severe  for  his  reason.  It  de 
serted  him,  and  soon  after,  he  was  found  dead  in  a  tunnel 
of  the  burn,  which  had  been  the  scene  of  one  of  his 
earliest  songs.  Unfortunately,  in  his  madness,  he  des 
troyed  his  favorite  works. 

Such  was  the  train  of  reflection,  from  which  Mary 
was  kind  enough,  at  the  request  of  my  friend,  to  relieve 
me,  by  a  lively  Irish  air.  Had  it  not  been  admirably 
selected,  I  could  hardly  have  borne  the  transition.  But 
there  was  enough  of  softening  melody,  mingled  with 
the  sprightliness  of  the  air,  to  lead  me  gently  to  a  gayer 
mood  ; — in  which  she  left  me, 

In  the  meantime,  most  of  the  young  ladies  and  gentle 
men  had  formed  a  circle  round  Miss  Aurelia  Emma 
Theodosia  Augusta  Crump,  and  were  earnestly  engaged 
In  pressing  her  to  play.  One  young  lady  even  went  so 
far  as  to  drop  on  her  knees  before  her,  and  in  this  posture 
to  beseech  "  her  dear  Augusta,  just  to  play  the  delight 
ful  overture  of ,"  something  that  sounded  to  rne  like 

"  Blaze  in  the  frets."  This  petition  was  urged 
with  such  a  melting  sweetness  of  voice,  such  a 
bewitching  leer  at  the  gentlemen,  and  such  a 
theatric  heave  of  the  bosom,  that  it  threw  the  young  gen 
tlemen  into  transports.  Hall  was  rude  enough  to  whis- 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  71 

per  in  mine  ear,  "  that  he  thought  it  indelicate  to  expose 
an  unmantled  bosom  to  a  perpendicular  view  of  a  large 
company  ;"  and  he  muttered  something  about  "  repub 
lican  simplicity,"  I  knew  not  exactly  what.  But  I  as 
sured  him,  the  fair  petitioner  was  so  overcome  by  her 
solicitude  for  the  overture,  that  she  thought  of  nothing 
else,  and  was  wholly  unconscious  that  there  was  a  gen- 
tleman  in  the  room.  As  to  his  insinuation  about  "  points 
of  view,"  1  convinced  him  by  an  easy  argument  that  it 
was  wholly  unfounded  ;  for  that  this  was  the  very  point 
of  view  in  which  an  exposed  neck  must  always  be  seen, 
while  men  continue  taller  than  women  ;  and  that,  as  the 
young  lady  must  have  been  apprised  of  this,  she  would 
hardly  take  so  much  trouble  for  nothing.  But  to  return. 

Miss  Crump  was  inexorable — She  declared  that  she 
was  entirely  out  of  practice.  "  She  scarcely  ever  touch 
ed  the  piano" — "  Mamma  was  always  scolding  her  for 
giving  so  much  of  her  time  to  French  and  Italian,  and 
neglecting  her  music  and  painting  ;  but  she  told  mamma 
the  other  day,  that  it  really  was  so  irksome  to  her  to  quit 
Racine  and  Dante,  and  go  to  thrumming  upon  the  piano, 
that  but  for  the  obligations  of  filial  obedience,  she  did  not 
think  she  should  ever  touch  it  again." 

Here  Mrs.  Crump  was  kind  enough  by  the  merest 
accident  in  the  world,  to  interpose,  and  to  relieve  the 
company  from  further  anxiety. 

"  Augusta,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  go  and  play  a  tune  or 
two ;  the  company  will  excuse  your  hoarseness." 

Miss  Crump  rose  immediately,  at  her  mother's  bid 
ding,  and  moved  to  the  piano,  accompanied  by  a  large 
group  of  smiling  faces. 

"  Poor  child,"  said  Mrs.  Crump  as  she  went  forward, 
"  she  is  frightened  to  death.  I  wish  Augusta  could 
overcome  her  diffidence." 

Miss  Crump  was  educated  at  Philadelphia ;  she  had 


72  GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C. 

been  taught  to  sing  by  Madam  Piggisqueaki,  who  was  a 
pupil  of  Ma'm'selle  Crokifroggietta,  who  had  sung  with 
Madam  Catalani ;  and  she  had  taken  lessons  on  the 
piano,  from  Seignor  Buzzifussi,  who  had  played  with 
Paganini. 

She  seated  herself  at  the  piano,  rocked  to  the  right, 
then  to  the  left — leaned  forward,  then  backward,  and 
began.  She  placed  her  right  hand  about  midway  the  keys, 
and  her  left  about  two  octaves  below  it.  She  now  put 
off  the  right  in  a  brisk  canter  up  the  treble  notes,  and 
the  left  after  it.  The  left  then  led  the  way  back,  and  the 
right  pursued  it  in  like  manner.  The  right  turned,  and 
repeated  its  first  movement ;  but  the  left  outran  it  this 
time,  hept  over  it,  and  flung  it  entirely  off  the  track. 
It  came  in  again,  however,  behind  the  left  on  its  return, 
and  passed  it  in  the  same  style.  They  now  became 
highly  incensed  at  each  other,  and  met  furiously  on  the 
middle  ground.  Here  a  most  awful  conflict  ensued,  for 
about  the  space  of  ten  seconds,  when  the  right  whipped 
off  all  of  a  sudden,  as  I  thought,  fairly  vanquished. 
But  I  was  in  the  error  against  which  Jack  Randolph 
cautions  us — "  It  had  only  fallen  back  to  a  stronger  po 
sition."  It  mounted  upon  two  black  keys,  and  commen 
ced  the  note  of  a  rattle-snake.  This  had  a  wonderful 
effect  upon  the  left,  and  placed  the  doctrine  of  "snake 
charming"  beyond  dispute.  The  left  rushed  furiously 
towards  it  repeatedly,  but  seemed  invariably  panic- 
struck,  when  it  came  within  six  keys  of  it ;  and  as  inva 
riably  retired  with  a  tremendous  roaring  down  the  bass 
keys.  It  continued  its  assaults,  sometimes  by  the  way 
of  the  naturals,  sometimes  by  the  way  of  the  sharps,  and 
sometimes  by  a  zigzag,  through  both  ;  but  all  its  attempts 
to  dislodge  the  right  from  its  strong  hold,  proving  inef 
fectual,  it  came  close  up  to  its  adversary,  and  expired. 


GEORIAG    SCENES,  &C.  73 

Any  one,  or  rather  no  one,  can  imagine  what  kind  of 
noises  the  Piano  gave  forth,  during  the  conflict.  Certain 
it  is,  no  one  can  describe  them,  and  therefore  I  shall  not 
attempt  it. 

The  battle  ended — Miss  Augusta  moved  as  though 
she  would  have  arisen,  but  this  was  protested  against  by 
a  number  of  voices  at  once  :  "  One  song,  my  dear  Aure- 
lia,"  said  Miss  Small ;  "  you  must  sing  that  sweet  little 
French  air  you  used  to  sing  in  Philadelphia,  and  which 
Madam  Piggisqueaki  was  so  fond  of." 

Miss  Augusta  looked  pitifully  at  her  mama  ;  and  her 
mama  looked  "  sing"  at  Miss  Augusta  :  accordingly 
she  squared  herself  for  a  song. 

She  brought  her  hands  to  the  campus  this  time  in  fine 
style,  and  they  seemed  now  to  be  perfectly  reconciled  to 
each  other.  They  commenced  a  kind  of  colloquy ;  the 
right  whispering  treble  very  softly,  and  the  left  respond 
ing  bass  very  loudly.  The  conference  had  been  kept 
up  until  I  began  to  desire  a  change  of  the  subject,  when 
my  ear  caught,  indistinctly,  some  very  curious  sounds, 
which  appeared  to  proceed  from  the  Hps  of  Miss  Augusta 
— they  seemed  to  be  compounded  of  a  dry  cough,  a 
grunt,  a  hiccup  and  a  whisper  ;  and  they  were  introduc 
ed,  it  appeared  to  me,  as  interpreters  between  the  right 
and  left.  Things  progressed  in  this  way  lor  about  the 
space  of  fifteen  seconds,  when  I  happened  to  direct  my 
attention  to  Mr.  Jenkins,  from  Philadelphia.  His  eyes 
were  closed,  his  head  rolled  gracefully  from  side  to  side ; 
a  beam  of  heavenly  complacency  rested  upon  his  coun 
tenance  ;  and  his  whole  man  gave  irresistible  demonstra 
tion  that  Miss  Crump's  music  made  him  feei  good  all 
over.  I  had  just  turned  from  the  contemplation  of  Mr. 
Jenkins'  transports,  to  see  whether  I  could  extract  from 
the  performance  any  thing  intelligible,  when  Miss  Crump 
made  a  fly-catching  grab  at  a  half  dozen  keys  in  a  row, 


.74  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

and  at  the  same  instant  she  fetched  a  long  dunghill-cock 
crow,  at  the  conclusion  of  which  she  grabbed  as  many 
keys  with  the  left.  This  came  over  Jenkins  like  a  warm 
bath  ;  and  over  me,  like  a  rake  of  bamboo  briers. 

My  nerves  had  not  recovered  from  this  shock,  before 
Miss  Augusta  repeated  the  movement,  and  accompanied 
it  with  the  squall  of  a  pinched  cat.  This  threw  me  into 
an  ague  fit,  but  from  respect  to  the  performer,  I  maintain 
ed  my  position.  She  now  made  a  third  grasp  with  the 
right,  boxed  the  faces  of  six  keys  in  a  row  with  the  left, 
and  at  the  same  time  raised  one  of  the  most  unearthly 
howls  that  ever  issued  from  the  throat  of  a  human 
being.  This  seemed  the  signal  for  universal  uproar 
and  destruction.  She  now  threw  away  all  reserve,  and 
charged  the  piano  with  her  whole  force. — She  boxed  it, 
she  clawed  it,  she  raked  it,  she  scraped  it.  Her  neck- 
vein  swelled,  her  chin  flew  up,  her  face  flushed,  her  eye 
glared,  her  bosom  heaved — She  screamed,  she  howled, 
she  yelled,  cackled,  and  was  in  the  act  of  dwelling  upon 
the  note  of  a  screech  owl,  when  I  took  the  St.  Vitus' 
dance,  and  rushed  out  of  the  room.  "  Good  Lord," 
said  a  by-stander,  "  if  this  be  her  singing,  what  must 
her  crying  be  /"  As  I  reached  the  door,  I  heard  a  voice 
exclaim,  "  By  heavens  !  she's  the  most  enchanting  per 
former  I  ever  heard  in  my  life!"  I  turned  to  see  who 
was  the  author  of  this  ill-timed  compliment ;  and  who 
should  it  be  but  Nick  Truck,  from  Lincoln,  who  seven 
years  before,  was  dancing  "  Possum  up  the  Gum  Tree," 
in  the  chimney  corner  of  his  father's  kitchen.  Nick 
had  entered  the  counting-room  of  a  merchant  in  Charles 
ton  some  five  or  six  years  before  ;  had  been  sent  out  as 
supercargo  of  a  vessel  to  Bordeaux,  and  while  the  vessel 
was  delivering  one  cargo,  and  taking  in  another,  had 
contracted  a  wonderful  relish  for  French  music. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,    &C,  75 

As  for  myself,  I  went  home  in  convulsions,  took  sixty 
drops  of  laudanum,  and  fell  asleep.  I  dreamt  that  I 
was  in  a  beautiful  city,  the  streets  of  which  intersected 
each  other  at  right  angles-That  the  birds  of  the  air,  and 
the  beasts  of  the  forest  had  gathered  there  for  battle  ; 
the  former,  led  on  by  a  Frenchman,  the  latter  by  an 
Italian-That  I  was  looking  on  their  movements  towards 
each  other,  when  I  heard  the  cry  of"  Hecate  is  coming  !" 
I  turned  my  eye  to  the  north  east,  and  saw  a  female 
flying  through  the  air  towards  the  city,  and  distinctly 
recognized  in  her,  the  features  of  Miss  Crump.  I  took 
the  alarm,  and  was  making  my  escape,  when  she  gave 
command  for  the  beasts  and  birds  to  fall  on  me. — They 
did  so,  and  with  all  the  noises  of  the  animal  world,  were 
in  the  act  of  tearing  me  to  pieces,  when  I  was  waked  by 
the  stepping  of  Hall,  my  room-mate  into  bed. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  sir,"  exclaimed  I,  "  you  have  waked 
me  from  a  horrible  dream.  What  o'clock  is  it  ?" 

"  Ten  minutes  after  twelve,"  said  he. 

"  And  where  have  you  been  to  this  late  hour  ?" 

"  I  have  just  returned  from  the  party." 

"  And  what  kept  you  so  late  ?" 

"  Why,  I  disliked  to  retire  while  Miss  Crump  was 
playing." 

"  In  mercy's  name!"  said  I,  "is  she  playing  yet?" 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  had  to  leave  her  playing  at  last." 

"  And  where  was  Jenkins  ?" 

"  He  was  there,  still  in  ecstasies,  and  urging  her  to 
play  on." 

"  And  where  was  Truck  ?" 

"  He  was  asleep." 

"  And  what  was  she  playing  ?" 

"An  Italian ." 

Here  I  swooned,  and  heard  no  more. 

BALDWIN. 


76  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 


THE  TtTRN  OVt. 

In  the  good  old  days  of  fescues,  dbisslefas,  and  an- 
persants,*  terms  which  used  to  be  familiar  in  this  coun 
try  during  the  Revolutionary  war,  and  which  lingered 
in  some  of  our  county  schools  for  a  few  years  after 
wards,  I  visited  my  friend,  Captain  Griffin,  who  resided 
about  seven  miles  to  the  eastward  of  Wrightsborough, 
then  in  Richmond,  but  now  in  Columbia  county.  I 
reached  the  Captain's  hospitable  dome  on  Easter,  and 
was  received  by  him  and  his  good  lady,  with  a  Georgia 
welcome  of  1790.  It  was  warm  from  the  heart,  and 
taught  me  in  a  moment,  that  all  the  obligations  of  the 
visit  were  upon  their  side,  not  mine.  Such  receptions 
were  not  peculiar,  at  that  time,  to  the  Captain  and  his 
family  ;  they  were  common  throughout  the  State. 
Where  are  they  now  !  and  where  the  generous  hospi 
talities  which  invariably  followed  them  !  I  see  them  oc 
casionally  at  the  contented  farmer's  door,  and  at  his  fes 
tive  board,  but  when  they  shall  have  taken  leave  of  these, 
Georgia  will  know  them  no  more. 

The  day  was  consumed  in  the  interchange  of  news 
between  the  Captain  and  myself,  (though  I  confess  it 

*  The  Rescue  was  a  sharpened  wire,  or  other  instrument,  used  by 
the  preceptor,  to  point  out  the  letters  to  tl  e  children. 

Abisselfa  is  a  contraction  of  the  words  ''a,  by  itself,  a."  It  was 
usual,  when  either  of  the  vowels  constituted  a  syllable  of  a  word,  to 
pronounce  it  and  denote  its  independent  character,  by  the  words  just 
mentioned,  thus:  "a  bv  itself,  a-c-o-r-n  corn,  acorn." — "e by  itself, 
e-v-i-1,  evil,  &c. 

The  character  which  stands  for  the  word  "  and1'  (&)  was  probably 
pronounced  by  the  same  accompaniment,  but  in  tern.s  borrowed  from 
the  Latin  language,  thus  :  "  &  per  se  (by  itself)  &.  Hence,  "  anper- 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  77 

might  have  been  better  employed,)  and  the  night  found 
us  seated  round  a  temporary  fire,  which  the  Captain's 
sons  had  kindled  up  for  the  purpose  of  dying  eggs.  It 
was  a  common  custom  of  those  days  with  boys,  to  dye  and 
peck  eggs  on  Easter  Sunday,  and  for  a  few  days  after 
wards.  They  were  colored  according  to  the  fancy  of 
the  dyer ;  some  yellow,  some  green,  some  purple,  and 
some  with  a  variety  of  colors,  borrowed  from  a  piece 
of  calico.  They  were  not  unfrequently  beautified  with 
a  taste  and  skill  which  would  have  extorted  a  compli 
ment  from  Hezekiah  Niles,  if  he  had  seen  them  a  year 
ago,  in  the  hands  of  the  "  y»ung  operatives"  in  some  of 
the  northern  manufactories.  No  sooner  was  the  work 
of  dying  finished,  than  our  "  young  operatives"  sallied 
forth  to  stake  the  whole  proceeds  of  their  "  domestic 
industry"  upon  a  peck.  Egg  was  struck  against  egg, 
point  to  point,  and  the  egg  which  was  broken  was  given 
up  as  lost  to  the  owner  of  the  one  which  came  whole 
from  the  shock. 

While  the  boys  were  busily  employed  in  the  manner 
just  mentioned,  the  Captain's  youngest  son,  George, 
gave  us  an  anecdote  highly  descriptive  of  the  Yankee 
and  Georgia  character,  even  in  their  buddings,  and  at 
this  early  date.  "  What  you  think,  pa,"  said  he,  "  Zeph. 
Pettibone  went  and  got  his  Uncle  Zach.  to  turn  him  a 
wooden  egg ;  and  he  won  a  whole  hat  full  o'  eggs  from 
all  us  boys  'fore  we  found  it  out — but  when  we  found  it 
out,  may  be  John  Brown  did'nt  smoke  him  for  it,  and 
took  away  all  his  eggs,  and  give  'em  back  to  us  boys ; 
— and  you  think  he  did'nt  go  then  and  git  a  guinea-egg, 
and  win  most  as  many  more,  and  John  Brown  would  o' 
give  it  to  him  agin,  if  all  we  boys  had'nt  said  we  thought 
it  was  fair.  I  never  see  such  a  boy  as  that  Zeph.  Petti- 
bone,  in  all  my  life.  He  don't  mind  whipping  no  more 
'an  nothing  at  all,  if  he  can  win  eggs." 
g 


78  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

This  anecdote,  however,  only  fell  in  by  accident,  for 
there  was  an  all-absorbing  subject  which  occupied  the 
minds  of  the  boys,  during  the  whole  evening,  of  which 
I  could  occasionally  catch  distant  hints,  in  under  tones 
and  whispers,  but  of  which  I  could  make  nothing,  until 
they  were  afterwards  explained  by  the  Captain  himself. 
Such  as  "  I'll  be  bound  Peet  Jones  and  Bill  Smith 
stretches  him" — "  By  Jockey,  soon  as  they  seize  him, 
you'll  see  me  down  upon  him  like  a  duck  upon  a  June- 
bug."  "  By  the  time  he  touches  the  ground,  he'll  think 
he's  got  into  a  hornet's  nest,"  &c. 

"  The  boys,"  said  the  Captain,  as  they  retired,  "  are 
going  to  turn  out  the  school-master  to-morrow,  and  you 
can  perceive  they  think  of  nothing  else.  We  must  go 
over  to  the  school-house,  and  witness  the  contest,  in 
order  to  prevent  injury  to  preceptor  or  pupils  ;  for  though 
the  master  is  always  upon  such  occasions,  glad  to  be 
turned  out,  and  only  struggles  long  enough  to  present 
his  patrons  a  fair  apology  for  giving  the  children  a  holi 
day,  which  he  desires  as  much  as  they  do,  the  boys 
always  conceive  a  holiday  gained  by  a  "  turn  out,"  as 
a  sole  achievement  of  their  valor,  and  in  their  zeal  to 
distinguish  themselves,  upon  such  memorable  occasions, 
they  sometimes  become  too  rough,  provoke  the  master 
to  wrath,  and  a  very  serious  conflict  ensues.  To  pre 
vent  these  consequences,  to  bear  witness  that  the  master 
was  forced  to  yield,  before  he  would  withhold  a  day  of 
his  promised  labor  from  his  employers,  and  to  act  as  a 
mediator  between  him  and  the  boys,  in  settling  the  arti 
cles  of  peace,  I  always  attend ;  and  you  must  accom 
pany  me  to-morrow."  I  cheerfully  promised  to  do  so. 

The  Captain  and  I  rose  before  the  sun,  but  the  boys 
had  risen,  and  were  off  to  the  school-house,  before  the 
dawn.  After  an  early  breakfast,  hurried  by  Mrs.  G. 
for  our  accommodation,  my  host  and  myself  took  up 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   kC.  79 

our  line  of  march  towards  the  school-house.  We  reach 
ed  it  about  a  half  hour  before  the  master  arrived,  but 
not  before  the  boys  had  completed  its.  fortifications.  It 
was  a  simple  log  pen,  about  twenty  feet  square,  with  a 
door- way  cut  out  of  the  logs,  to  which  was  fitted  a  rude 
door,  made  of  clapboards,  and  swung  on  wooden  hinges. 
The  roof  was  covered  with  clapboards  also,  and  retained 
in  their  places  by  heavy  logs  placed  on  them.  The 
chimney  was  built  of  logs,  diminishing  in  size  from  the 
ground  to  the  top,  and  overspread  inside  and  out  with 
red  clay  mortar.  The  classic  hut  occupied  a  lovely 
spot,  overshadowed  by  majestic  hickorys,  towering  pop 
lars,  and  strong  armed  oaks.  The  little  plain  on  which 
it  stood,  was  terminated  at  the  distance  of  about  fifty 
paces  from  its  door,  by  the  brow  of  a  hill,  which  des 
cended  rather  abruptly  to  a  noble  spring,  that  gushed 
joyously  forth  from  among  the  roots  of  a  stately  beach, 
at  its  foot.  The  stream  from  this  fountain  scarcely 
burst  in  view,  before  it  hid  itself  beneath  the  dark  shade 
of  a  field  of  cane,  which  overspread  the  dale,  through 
which  it  flowed,  and  marked  its  windings,  until  it  turned 
from  the  sight,  among  vine-covered  hills,  at  a  distance 
far  beyond  that  to  which  the  eye  could  have  traced  it, 
without  the  help  of  its  evergreen  belt.  A  remark  of 
the  Captain's,  as  we  viewed  the  lovely  country  around 
us,  will  give  the  reader  my  apology  for  the  minuteness 
of  the  foregoing  description.  "  These  lands,"  said  he, 
"  will  never  wear  out.  Where  they  lie  level,  they  will 
be  as  good  fifty  years  hence  as  they  are  now.'5  Forty- 
two  years  afterwards  I  visited  the  spot  on  which  he  stood, 
when  he  made  the  remark.  The  sun  poured  his  whole 
strength  upon  the  bald  hill  which  once  supported  the  se 
questered  school-house — Many  a  deep-washed  gully  met 
at  a  sickly  bog,  where  gushed  the  limpid  fountain — a 
dying  willow  rose  from  the  soil  which  nourished  the 


80  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

venerable  beach — flocks  wandered  among  the  dwarf 
pines,  and  cropt  a  scanty  meal  from  the  vale,  where  the 
rich  cane  bowed  and  rustled  to  every  breeze — and  all 
around  was  barren,  dreary  and  cheerless.  But  to  re 
turn. 

As  I  before  remarked,  the  boys  had  strongly  fortified 
the  school-house,  of  which  they  had  taken  possession. 
The  door  was  barricaded  with  logs,  which  I  should  have 
supposed  would  have  defied  the  combined  powers  of  the 
whole  school.  The  chimney,  too,  was  nearly  filled  with 
logs  of  goodly  size  ;  and  these  were  the  only  passways 
to  the  interior.  I  concluded,  if  a  turn-out  was  all  that 
was  necessary  to  decide  the  contest  in  favor  of  the  boys, 
they  had  already  gained  the  victory.  They  had,  how- 
ever,  not  as  much  confidence  in  their  outworks  as  I  had, 
and  therefore  had  armed  themselves  with  long  sticks ; 
not  for  the  purpose  of  using  them  upon  the  master,  if  the 
battle  should  come  to  close  quarters,  for  this  was  consid 
ered  unlawful  warfare  ;  but  for  the  purpose  of  guarding 
their  works  from  his  approaches,  which  it  was  considered 
perfectly  lawful  to  protect,  by  all  manner  of  jobs  and 
punches  through  the  cracks.  From  the  early  assem 
bling  of  the  girls,  it  was  very  obvious  that  they  had 
been  let  into  the  conspiracy,  though  they  took  no  part  in 
the  active  operations.  They  would,  however,  occasion 
ally,  drop  a  word  of  encouragement  to  the  boys,  such  as 
"  I  would'nt  turn  out  the  master  ;  but  if  I  did  turn  him 
out,  I'd  die  before  I'd  give  up."  These  remarks  doubt 
less  had  an  emboldening  effect  upon  "  the  young  free- 
borns"  as  Mrs.  Trollope  would  call  them ;  for  I  never 
knew  the  Georgian  of  any  age,  who  was  indifferent  to 
the  smiles  and  praises  of  the  ladies — before  his  mar 
riage. 

At  length,  Mr.  Michael  St.  John,  the  school -master, 
made  his  appearance. — Though  some  of  the  girls  had 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  81 

met  him  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  school-house,  and 
told  him  all  that  had  happened ;  he  gave  signs  of  sudden 
astonishment  and  indignation,  when  he  advanced  to 
the  door,  and  was  assailed  by  a  whole  platoon  of  sticks 
from  the  cracks  :  «  Why,  what  does  all  this  mean  ?" 
said  he,  as  he  approached  the  Captain  and  myself,  with 
a  countenance  of  two  or  three  varying  expressions. 

«  Why,"  said  the  Captain,  "  the  boys  have  turned  you 
out,  because  you  have  refused  to  give  them  an  Easter 
holiday." 

"  Oh,"  returned  Michael,  « that's  it,  is  it  ?  Well,.  I'll 
see  whether  their  parents  are  to  pay  me  for  letting  their 
children  play  when  they  please."  So  saying,  he  advan 
ced  to  the  school-house,  and  demanded,  in  a  lofty  tone, 
of  its  inmates,  an  unconditional  surrender. 

"  Well,  give  us  holiday  then,"  said  twenty  little  ur 
chins  within,  "  and  we'll  let  you  in." 

Opentiie  door  of  the  Academy"  (Michael  would  allow 
no  body  to  call  it  a  school -house) — "  Open  the  ddor  of 
the  Academy  this  instant,"  said  Michael,  "  or  I'll  break 
it  down." 

"  Break  it  down,"  said  Peet  Jones  and  Bill  Smith, "  and 
we'll  break  you  down." 

During  this  colloquy  I  took  a  peep  into  the  fortress,  to 
see  how  tiie  garrison  were  affected  by  the  parley.  The 
little  ones  were  obviously  panic  struck  at  the  first  words 
of  command  ;  but  their  fears  were  all  chased  away  by 
the  bold  determined  reply  of  Peet  Jones  and  Bill  Smith, 
and  they  raised  a  whoop  of  defiance. 

Michael  now  walked  round  the  Academy  three  times, 
examining  all  its  weak  points  with  great  care.  He  then 
paused,  reflected  for  a  moment,  and  wheeled  off  suddenly 
towards  the  woods,  as  though  a  bright  thought  had  just 
struck  him.  He  passed  twenty  things  which  I  supposed 
he  might  be  in  quest  of,  such  as  huge  stones,  fence-rails, 


82  GEORGIA   SCENES,   kC. 

portable  logs,  and  the  like,  without  bestowing  the  least 
attention  upon  them.  He  went  to  one  old  log,  searched 
it  thoroughly,  then  to  another,  then  to  a  hollow  stump, 
peeped  into  it  with  great  care,  then  to  a  hollow  log,  into 
which  he  looked  with  equal  caution,  and  so  on. 

"  What  is  he  after  ?"  enquired  I. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  the  Captain,  "  but  the 
boys  do.  Dont  you  notice  the  breathless  silence  which 
prevails  in  the  school-house,  and  the  intense  anxiety  with 
which  they  are  eying  him  through  the  cracks  ?" 

At  this  moment  Michael  had  reached  a  little  excavation 
at  the  root  of  a  dog- wood,  and  was  in  the  act  of  putting 
his  hand  into  it,  when  a  voice  from  the  garrison  exclaim 
ed,  with  most  touching  pathos,  "  Lo'd  o'  messy,  he's 
found  my  eggs  !  boys  let's  give  up." 

"  I  wont  give  up,"  was  the  reply  from  many  voices  at 
once. 

"  Rot  your  cowardly  skin,  Zeph.  Pettibone,  you 
would'nt  give  a  wooden  egg  for  all  the  holidays  in  the 
world." 

"  If  these  replies  did  not  reconcile  Zepheniah  to  his 
apprehended  loss,  it  at  least  silenced  his  complaints.  In 
the  meantime,  Michael  was  employed  in  relieving  Zeph's 
store-house  of  its  provisions  ;  and  truly  its  contents  told 
well  for  Zeph's  skill  in  egg-pecking.  However,  Mi 
chael  took  out  the  eggs  with  great  care,  and  brought 
them  within  a  few  paces  of  the  school-house,  and  laid 
them  down  with  equal  care,  in  full  view  of  the  besieged. 
He  revisited  the  places  which  he  had  searched,  and 
to  which  he  seemed  to  have  been  led  by  intuition ;  for 
from  nearly  all  of  them  did  he  draw  eggs,  in  greater  or 
less  numbers.  These  he  treated  as  he  had  done  Zeph's  ; 
keeping  each  pile  separate.  Having  arranged  the  eggs 
in  double  files  before  the  door,  he  marched  between 
them  with  an  air  of  triumph,  and  once  more  demanded 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  83 

a  surrender,  under  pain  of  an  entire  destruction  of  the 
garrison's  provisions. 

"  Break  'em  just  as  quick  as  you  please,"  said  George 
Griffin,  "  our  mothers  '11  give  us  a  plenty  more,  won't 
they  Pa?" 

"  I  can  answer  for  your's,  my  son,"  said  the  Captain  ; 
"  she  would  rather  give  up  every  egg  on  the  farm,  than 
see  you  play  the  coward  or  traitor,  to  save  your  pro 
perty." 

Michael  finding  that  he  could  make  no  impression 
upon  the  fears  or  the  avarice  of  the  boys,  determined  to 
carry  their  fortifications  by  storm.  Accordingly,  he 
procured  a  heavy  fence-rail,  and  commenced  the  as 
sault  upon  the  door.  It  soon  came  to  pieces,  and  the 
upper  logs  fell  out,  leaving  a  space  of  about  three  feet 
at  the  top.  Michael  boldly  entered  the  breach  when  by 
the  articles  of  war,  sticks  were  thrown  aside,  as  no  longer 
lawful  weapons.  He  was  resolutely  met  on  the  half  demol 
ished  rampart  by  Peter  Jones  and  William  Smith,  sup 
ported  by  James  Griffin.  These  were  the  three  largest 
boys  in  the  school ;  the  first  about  sixteen  years  of  age, 
the  second  about  fifteen,  and  the  third  just  eleven.  Twice 
was  Michael  repulsed  by  these  young  champions,  but 
the  third  effort  carried  him  fairly  into  the  fortress.  Hos 
tilities  now  ceased  for  a  while,  and  the  Captain  and  I 
having  levelled  the  remaining  logs  at  the  door,  followed 
Michael  into  the  house.  A  large  three  inch  plank,  (if 
it  deserve  that  name,  for  it  was  wrought  from  the  half 
of  a  tree's  trunk,  entirely  with  the  axe,)  attached  to  the 
logs  by  means  of  wooden  pins,  served  the  whole  school 
for  a  writing  desk.  At  a  convenient  distance 
below  it,  and  on  a  line  with  it,  stretched  a  smooth  log, 
resting  upon  the  logs  of  the  house,  which  answered  for 
the  writers'  seat.  Michael  took  his  seat  upon  the  desk, 
placed  his  feet  on  the  seat,  and  was  sitting  very  compo- 


84  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

sedly,  when  with  a  simultaneous  movement,  Peet  and 
Bill  seized  each  a  leg,  and  marched  off  with  it  in  quick 
time.  The  consequence  is  obvious — Michael's  head  first 
took  the  desk,  then  the  seat,  and  finally  the  ground,  (for 
the  house  was  not  floored,)  with  three  sonorous  thumps, 
of  most  doleful  portent.  No  sooner  did  he  touch  the 
ground,  than  he  was  completely  buried  in  boys.  The 
three  elder,  laid  themselves  across  his  head,  neck  and 
breast,  the  rest  arranging  themselves  ad  libitum.  Mi 
chael's  equanimity  was  considerably  disturbed  by  the 
first  thump — became  restive  with  the  second,  and  took 
flight  with  the  third.  His  first  effort  was  to  disengage 
his  legs,  for  without  them  he  could  not  rise,  and  to  lie  in 
his  present  position,  was  extremely  inconvenient  and  un 
dignified.  Accordingly,  he  drew  up  his  right,  and  kicked 
at  random.  This  movement  laid  out  about  six  in  various 
directions  upon  the  loor.  Two  rose  crying — "  Ding  his 
old  red-headed  skin,"  said  one  of  them,  "  to  go  and 
kick  me  right  in  my  sore  belly,  where  1  fell  down  and 
raked  it,  running  after  that  fellow  that  cried  *  school- 
butter.'  "* 

"  D rot  his  old  snaggle-tooth  picture,"  said  the  other, 
"  to  go  and  hurt  my  sore  toe,  where  I  knocked  the  .nail 
off,  going  to  the  spring,  to  fetch  a  gourd  of  warier  for 
him,  and  not  for  myself  n'other." 

*  I  have  never  been  able  to  satisfy  myself  clearly,  as  to  the  literal 
meaning  of  these  terms.  They  were  considered  an  unpardonable  in 
sult  to  a  country  school,  and  always  justified  an  atlack  by  the  whole 
fraternity,  upon  the  person  who  used  them  in  their  hearing.  I  have 
known  the  scholars  pursue  a  traveller  two  miles  to  be  revenged  of  the 
insult.  Probably  they  ore  a  corruption  of  "  The  School's  better." 
"  Better"  was  the  term  commonly  used  of  old,  to  denote  a  superior, 
as  it  sometimes  is  in  our  day — "  Wait  till  your  betters  are  served,"  for 
example.  I  conjecture  therefore,  the  expression  just  alluded  to,  was 
one  of  challenge,  contempt  and  defiance,  by  which  the  person  who  used 
it,  avowed  himself  the  superior  in  all  respects,  of  the  whole  school, 
irom  the  preceptor  down.  If  any  one  can  give  a  better  account  of  it, 
1  shall  be  pleased  to  receive  it. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C,  35 

"  Hut !"  said  Capt.   Griffin,    "  young   Washingtons 
mind  these  trifles  !  At  him  again." 

The  name  of  Washington  cured  their  wounds,  and 
dried  up  their  tears  in  an  instant,  and  they  legged  him 
de  novo.  The  left  leg  treated  six  more  as  unceremo 
niously  as  the  right  had  those  just  mentioned — but  the 
talismanic  name,  had  just  fallen  upon  their  ears  before 
the  kick,  so  they  were  invulnerable.  They  therefore 
returned  to  the  attack  without  loss  of  time.  The  strug 
gle  seemed  to  wax  hotter  and  hotter,  for  a  short  time 
after  Michael  came  to  the  ground,  and  he  threw  the 
children  about  in  all  directions  and  postures,  giving  some 
of  them  thumps  which  would  have  placed  the  ruffle-skirt 
ed  little  darlings  of  the  present  day,  under  the  discipline 
of  paregoric  and  opodeldoc  for  a  week  ;  but  these  hardy 
sons  of  the  forest,  seemed  not  to  feel  them.  As  Michael's 
head  grew  easy,  his  limbs,  by  a  natural  sympathy  be 
came  more  quiet,  and  he  now  sued  for  peace,  offering 
one  day's  holiday  as  the  price.  The  boys  demanded  a 
week  ;  but  here  the  Captain  interposed,  and  after  the 
common,  but  often  unjust  custom  of  arbitrators,  split  the 
difference.  In  this  instance  the  terms  were  equitable 
enough,  and  were  immediately  acceded  to  by  both  par 
ties.  Michael  rose  in  a  good  humor,  and  the  boys  were 
of  course.  Loud  was  their  talking  of  their  deeds  of 
valor,  as  they  retired.  One  little  fellow,  about  seven 
years  old,  and  about  three  feet  and  a  half  high,  jumped 
up,  cracked  his  feet  together,  and  exclaimed,  "  by  gingo, 
Peet  Jones,  Bill  Smith  and  me  can  hold  any  Sinjin  that 
ever  trod  Georgy  grit."  By  the  way,  the  name  of  St. 
John,  was  always  pronounced  "  Sinjin"  by  the  com 
mon  people  of  that  day ;  and  so  it  must  have  been  by 
Lord  Bolingbroke  himself,  else  his  friend  Pope  would 
never  have  addressed  him  in  a  line  so  unmusical  as 
"  Awake  my  St.  John,  leave  all  meaner  things." 


86  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

Nor  would  Swift,  the  friend  and  companion  of  both, 
have  written 

"  What  St.  John's  skill  in  slate  affairs, 
WhatOrmond's  valor,  Oxford's  cares." — 

******** 

"  Where  folly,  pride,  and  faction  sway, 
Remote  from  St.  John,  Pope  and  Gray." 

HALL. 


THE    «  CHARMING   CREATURE"  AS  A  WIFE. 

My  nephew,  George  Baldwin,  was  but  ten  years 
younger  than  myself.  He  was  the  son  of  a  plain,  prac 
tical,  sensible  farmer,  who,  without  the  advantages  of  a 
liberal  education,  had  enriched  his  mind  by  study  and 
observation,  with  a  fund  of  useful  knowledge,  rarely  pos 
sessed  by  those  who  move  in  his  sphere  of  life. — His  wife 
was  one  of  the  most  lovely  of  women.  She  was  pious, 
but  not  austere  ;  cheerful,  but  not  light ;  generous,  but 
not  prodigal ;  economical,  but  not  close  ;  hospitable,  but 
not  extravagant.  In  native  powers  of  mind,  she  was 
every  way  my  brother's  equal — in  acquirements,  she  was 
decidedly  his  superior. — To  this  I  have  his  testimony,  as 
well  as  my  own ;  but  it  was  impossible  to  discover  in 
her  conduct,  any  thing  going  to  shew  that  she  coincided 
with  us  in  opinion.  To  have  heard  her  converse,  you 
would  have  supposed  she  did  nothing  but  read — to  have 
looked  through  the  departments  of  her  household,  you 
would  have  supposed  she  never  read.  Every  thing 
which  lay  within  her  little  province,  bore  the  impress  of 


GEORIAG    SCENES,  &C.  87 

her  own  hand,  or  acknowledged  her  supervision.  Order, 
neatness,  and  cleanliness  prevailed  every  where.     All 
provisions  were  given  out  with  her  own  hands,  and  she 
could  tell  precisely  the  quantity  of  each  article  that  it 
would  require  to  serve  a  given    number   of  persons, 
without  stint  or  wasteful  profusion.     In  the  statistics  of 
domestic  economy,  she  was  perfectly  versed.  She  would 
tell  you,  with  astonishing  accuracy,  how  many  pounds  of 
cured  bacon,  you  might  expect  from  a  given  weight  of 
fresh  pork — How  many  quarts  of  cream,  a  given  quan 
tity  of  milk  would  yield — How  much   butter,  so  much 
cream — How  much  of  each   article   it  would  take  to 
serve  so  many  persons,  a  month  or  a  year.     Supposing 
no  change  in  the  family,  and  she  would  tell  you  to  a  day, 
when  a  given  quantity  of  provisions  of  any  kind  would 
be  exhausted.     She  reduced  to  certain  knowledge  every 
thing  that  could  be  ;  and  she  approximated  to  it  as  nearly 
as  possible,  with  those  matters  which  could  not  be.   And 
yet  she  scolded  less,  and  whipt  less,  than  any  mistress  of 
a  family  I  ever  saw.     The  reason  is  obvious.     Every 
thing  under  her  care  went  on  with  perfect  system.     To 
each  servant  was  allotted  his  or  her  respective  duties ;  and 
to  each  was  assigned  the  time  in  which  those  duties  were 
to  be  performed.     During  this  time,  she  suffered  them 
not  to  be  interrupted,  if  it  was  possible  to  protect  them 
from  interruption.     Her  children  were  permitted  to  give 
no  orders  to  servants  but  through  her,  until  they  reach- 
ed  the  age  at  which   they  were  capable  of  regulating 
their  orders  by  her  rules.     She  laid  no  plans   to  detect 
her  servants  in  theft,  but  she  took  great  pains  to  convince 
them  that  they  could  not  pilfer  without  detection ;  and 
this  did  she,  without  betraying  any  suspicions  of  their 
integrity.     Thus,  she  would  have  her  biscuits  uniformly 
of  a  size,  and  under  the  form  of  instructions  to  her  cook, 
she  would  show  her  precisely  the  quantity  of  flour  which 


88  GEORGIA   SCENES,  kC. 

it  took  to  make  so  many  biscuit.  After  all  this,  she  exposet 
her  servants  to  as  few  temptations  as  possible.  She  nevei 
sent  them  to  the  larder  unattended,  if  she  could  avoid  it ; 
and  never  placed  them  under  the  watch  of  children. 
She  saw  that  they  were  well  provided  with  every  thing 
they  needed,  and  she  indulged  them  in  recreations  when 
she  could.  No  service  was  required  of  them  on  the 
Sabbath,  further  than  to  spread  the  table,  and  to  attend  it — 
a  service  which  was  lightened  as  much  as  possible,  by 
having  the  provisions  of  that  day  very  simple,  and  pre 
pared  the  day  before. 

Such,  but  half  described,  were  the  father  and  mother 
of  George  Baldwin.  He  was  their  only  son  and  eldest 
child  ;  but  he  had  two  sisters,  Mary  and  Martha ;  the 
first  four,  and  the  second  six  years  younger  than  him 
self — a  son  next  to  George  having  died  in  infancy.  The 
two  eldest  children  inherited  their  names  from  their  par 
ents,  and  all  of  them  grew  up  worthy  of  the  stock  from 
which  they  sprang. 

George  having  completed  his  education  at  Princeton, 
where  he  was  graduated  with  great  honor  to  himself,  re 
turned  to  Georgia,  and  commenced  the  study  of  the  law. 
After  studying  a  year,  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  just 
after  he  had  completed  his  one  and  twentieth  year.  I 
have  been  told  by  gentlemen  who  belong  to  this  profes 
sion,  that  one  year  is  too  short  a  time  for  preparation 
for  the  intricacies  of  legal  lore ;  and  it  may  be  so,  but  1 
never  knew  a  young  man  acquit  himself  more  creditably 
than  George  did,  in  his  maiden  speech. 

He  located  himself  in  the  city  of ,  seventy 

miles  from  his  father's  residence  ;  and  after  the  lapse  of 
three  years,  he  counted  up  eight  hundred  dollars,  as  the 
net  profits  of  his  last  year's  practice.  Reasonably  cal 
culating,  that  his  receipts  would  annually  increase  for 
several  years  to  come*  having  no  expenses  to  encounter, 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  89 

except  for  his  board  and  clothing,  (for  his  father  had  fur 
nished  him  with  a  complete  library,)  he  now  thought  of 
taking  to  himself  a  helpmate.  Hitherto  he  had  led  a 
very  retired,  studious  life ;  but  now  he  began  to  court 
the  society  of  ladies. 

About  this  time,  Miss  Evelina  Caroline  Smith  returned 
to  the  city,  from  Philadelphia,  where,  after  an  absence 
of  three  years,  she  had  completed  her  education.     She 
was  the  only  child  of  a  wealthy,  unlettered  merchant, 
who,  rather  by  good  luck  than  good  management,  had 
amassed  a  fortune  of  about  fifty  thousand  dollars — Mr. 
Smith,  was  one  of  those  men,  who  conceived  that  all 
earthly  greatness,   and  consequently,  all   earthly  bliss, 
concentred  in  wealth.      The  consequence  was  inevita 
ble.     To  the  poor,  he  was  haughty,  supercilious  and  ar 
rogant,  and  not  unfrequently,  wantonly  insolent ;  to  the 
rich  he  was  friendly,  kind,  or  obsequious,  as  their  purses 
equalled  or  overmeasured  his  own.     His  wife  was  even 
below  himself    in    moral  stature  :  proud,  loquacious, 
silly.     Evelina  was  endowed  by    nature   with   a  good 
mind,  and,  what  her  parents  esteemed  of  infinitely  more 
value,  she  was  beautiful  from  her  infancy  to  the  time 
when  I  idtroduced  her  to  the  reader ;  which  was  just 
after  she  had  completed  her  seventeenth  year.  Evelina's 
time,  between  her  six  and  fourteenth  year,   had  been 
chiefly  employed,  in  learning  from  her  father  and  mother 
what  a  perfect  beauty  she  was,  and  what  kind  of  gew 
gaws    exhibited    her    beauty   to  the  greatest    advan 
tage — how  rich  she  would  be  ;  and  "  what  havoc  she 
would  make  of  young  men's  hearts,  by-and-by."     In 
these  instructive  lectures,  her  parents  sometimes  found 
gratuitous  help,  from  silly  male  and  female  visiters,  who, 
purely  to  win  favor  from  the  parents,  would  expatiate  on 
the  perfections  of  « the  lovely,"  «  charming,"  "  beautiful 
little  creature,"  in  her  presence.    The  consequence  was, 
h 


90  GEORGIA   SCENES,  fcC. 

that  pride  and  vanity  became,  at  an  early  age,  the  lead- 
ing  traits  of  the  child's  character ;  and  admiration  and 
flattery,  the  only  food  which  she  could  relish.  Her 
parents  subjected  themselves  to  the  loss  of  her  society 
for  three  years,  while  she  was  at  school  in  Phialdelphia, 
from  no  better  motive,  than  to  put  her  on  an  equality 
with  Mr.  B's  and  Mr.  C's  daughters — or  rather,  to  imi 
tate  the  examples  of  Messrs.  B.  &  C.,  merchants  of  the 
same  city,  who  were  very  rich. 

While  she  was  in  Philadelphia,  Evelina  was  well  in 
structed.  She  was  taught,  in  what  female  loveliness 
truly  consists — the  qualities  which  deservedly  command 
the  respect  of  the  wise  and  good  ;  and  the  deportment 
which  ensures  to  a  female,  the  admiration  of  all.  But 
Evelina's  mind  had  received  a  bias,  from  which  these 
lessons  could  not  relieve  it ;  and  the  only  effect  of  them 
upon  her,  was  to  make  her  an  accomplished  hypocrite, 
with  all  her  other  foibles.  She  improved  her  instruc 
tions,  only  to  the  gratification  of  her  ruling  passion.  In 
music  she  made  some  proficiency,  because  she  saw  in.  it, 
a  ready  mean  of  gaining  admiration. 

George  Baldwin  had  formed  a  partial  acquaintance 
with  Mr.  Smith,  before  the  return  of  his  daughter ;  but 
he  rather  shunned,  than  courted  a  closer  intimacy. 
Smith,  however,  had  entrusted  George  with  some  pro 
fessional  business,  found  him  trust-worthy,  and  thought 
he  saw  in  him,  a  man,  who  at  no  very  distant  day,  was 
to  become  distinguished,  for  both  wealth  and  talents  ;  and 
upon  a  very  short  acquaintance,  he  took  occasion  to  tell 
him,  "  that  whoever  married  his  daughter,  should  re 
ceive  the  next  day,  a  check  for  twenty  thousand  dollars." 
"  That  '11  do,"  continued  he,  "  to  start  upon ;  and  when 
I  and  the  old  woman  drop  off,  she  will  get  thirty  more." 
This  had  an  effect  upon  George  directly  opposite  to  that 
which  it  was  designed  to  have. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  kC.  91 

Miss  Smith  had  been  at  home  about  three  weeks,  and 
the  whole  town  had  sounded  the  praises  of  her  beauty 
and  accomplishments ;  but  George  had  not  seen  her ; 
though  Mr.  Smith  had  in  the  mean  time  given  him  seve 
ral  notes  to  collect,  with  each  of  which,  he  "  wondered 
how  it  happened  that  two  so  much  alike  as  himself  and 
George,  had  never  been  more  intimate  ;  and  hoped  he 
would  come  over  in  a  sociable  way  and  see  him  often." 
About  this  time,  however,  George  received  a  special  in 
vitation  to  a  large  tea-party,  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith, 
which  he  could  not  with  propriety  reject,  and  according 
ly  he  went.     He  was  received  at  the  door  by  Mr.  Smith, 
announced  upon  entering  the  drawing-room,  and  con- 
ducted  through  a  crowd  of  gentlemen  to  Miss  Smith,  to 
whom  he  was  introduced  with  peculiar  emphasis.     He 
made  his  obeisance,  and  retired ;  for  common  politeness 
required  him  to  bestow  his  attentions  upon  some  of  the 
many  ladies  in  the  room,  who  were  neglected  by  the 
gentlemen,  in  their  rivalship  for  a  smile,  or  word  from 
Miss  Evelina.     She  was  the  admiration  of  all  the  gen 
tlemen,  and  with  the  exception  of  two  or  three  young 
ladies,  who  "  thought  her  too  affected,"  she  was  praised 
by  all  the  ladies.     In  short,  by  nearly  universal  testi 
mony,  she  was  pronounced  "  a  charming  creature." 

An  hour  had  elapsed  before  George  found  an  oppor 
tunity  of  giving  her  those  attentions,  which,  as  a  guest 
of  the  family,  courtesy  required  from  him.  The  oppor 
tunity  was  at  length,  however,  furnished  by  herself.  In 
circling  round  the  room  to  entertain  the  company,  she 
reached  George,  just  as  the  seat  next  to  him  had  been 
vacated.  This  she  occupied,  and  a  conversation  ensued, 
with  every  word  of  which  she  gained  upon  his  respect 
and  esteem.  Instead  of  finding  her  that  gay,  volatile, 
vain  creature,  whom  he  expected  to  find  in  the  rich  and 
beautiful  daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith  ;  he  found  her, 


92  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

a  modest,  sensible,  unassuming  girl,  whose  views  upon 
all  subjects,  coincided  precisely  with  his  own. 

"  She  yielded  to  the  wishes  of  her  parents,  from  a 
sense  of  duty,  in  giving  and  attending  parties  ;  but  she 
always  left  them,  under  the  conviction  that  the  time 
spent  at  them  was  worse  than  wasted.  It  w*as  really  a 
luxury  to  her,  to  retire  from  the  idle  chit-chat  of  them, 
and  to  spend  a  few  minutes  in  conversation  with  a  male 
or  female  friend,  who  would  consider  it  no  disrespect  to 
the  company,  to  talk  rationally  upon  such  occasions. 
And  yet,  in  conducting  such  conversations  at  such  times, 
it  was  so  difficult  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  pedantry, 
and  to  keep  it  from  running  into  something  too  stiff  or 
too  grave  for  a  social  circle,  that  she  really  was  afraid 
to  court  them."  As  to  books,  "  she  read  but  very  few 
novels,  though  her  ignorance  of  them  often  exposed  her 
to  some  mortification ;  but  she  felt  that  her  ignorance 
here,  was  a  compliment  to  her  taste  and  delicacy,  which 
made  ample  amends  for  the  mortifications  to  which  it 
forced  her  occasionally  to  submit.  With  Hannah 
Moore,  Mrs.  Chapone,  Bennett  and  other  writers  of  the 
same  class,  she  was  very  familiar  ;"  (and  she  descanted 
upon  the  peculiar  merits  of  each,)  "But,  after  all, 
books  were  of  small  consequence  to  a  lady,  without  those 
domestic  virtues  which  enable  her  to  blend  superior  use 
fulness  with  superior  acquirements  ;  and  if  learning,  or 
usefulness  must  be  forsaken,  it  had  better  be  the  first. 
Of  music,  she  was  extravagantly  fond,  and  she  presum 
ed  she  ever  would  be  ;  but  she  confessed,  she  had  no 
taste  for  its  modern  refinements." 

Thus  she  went  on  with  the  turns  of  the  conversation, 
and  as  she  caught  George's  views.  It  is  true,  she  would 
occasionally  drop  a  remark  which  did  not  harmonize 
exactly  with  these  dulcet  strains ;  and  in  her  rambles 
©ver  the  world  of  science,  she  would  sometimes  seem  at 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  93 

fault,  where  George  thought  she  ought  to  have  been  per 
fectly  at  home ;  but  he  found  a  thousand  charitable  ways 
of  accounting  for  all  this ;  not  one  of  which  led  to  the 
idea,  that  she  might  have  learned  these  diamond  senti 
ments  by  rote,  from  the  lips  of  her  preceptress.  Conse 
quently  they  came  with  resistless  force  upon  the  citadel 
of  George's  heart,  and  in  less  than  half  an  hour,  over 
powered  it  completely. 

"  Truly,"  thought  George,  "  she  is  a  charming  crea 
ture  !  When  was  so  much  beauty  ever  blended  with 
such  unassuming  manners,  and  such  intellectual  endow 
ments  !  How  wonderful,  that  the  daughter  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Smith  should  possess  such  accomplishments  !  How 
dull — with  all  her  filial  affection — how  dull  must  be  her 
life,  under  the  parental  roof!  Not  a  companion,  not  a 
sympathetic  feeling  there  !  •  How  sweet  it  would  be  to 
return  from  the  toils  of  the  Courts,  to  a  bosom  friend,  so 
soft,  so  benevolent,  so  intelligent !" 

Thus  ran  George's  thoughts,  as  soon  as  Miss  Smith 
had  left  him,  to  go  in  quest  of  new  conquests.  The 
effects  of  her  short  interview  with  him,  soon  became 
visible  to  every  eye.  His  conversation  lost  its  spirit — 
was  interrupted  by  moody  abstractions,  and  was  sillier 
than  it  had  ever  been.  George  had  a  fine  person,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  now  set  a  value  upon  it. 
To  exhibit  it  to  the  greatest  advantage,  he  walked  the 
room  under  various  pretence  ;  and  when  in  his  pro 
menades  he  caught  the  eye  of  Miss  Smith  resting  upon 
him,  he  assumed  a  more  martial  or  theatric  step,  which 
made  him  look  ridiculous  at  the  time,  and  feel  so  imme 
diately  afterwards.  In  his  listless  journeyings,  his  at 
tention  was  arrested  by  a  beautiful  cottage  scene,  at  the 
foot  of  which  glittered  in  golden  letters, 
"  BY  EVELINA  CAROLINE  SMITH,  OF  ..  .. ,  GEORGIA." 


94  GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C. 

This  led  him  to  another,  and  another,  from  the  same 
pencil.  Upon  these  he  was  gazing  with  a  look  and  at 
titude  the  most  complimentary  to  Miss  Evelina  that  he 
could  possibly  assume,  while  the  following  remarks  were 
going  the  rounds. 

"  Do  you  notice  George  Baldwin  ?" 

"  Oh  yes !  he's  in  for  it — dead  sir — good  bye  to  bail- 
writs  and  sassiperaris  /" 

"  Oh  she's  only  put  an  attachment  on  him." 

"  Really,  Miss  Smith,  it  was  too  bad,  to  serve  George 
Baldwin  so  cruelly  !" 

"  Ah,  sir,  if  reports  are  true,  Mr.  Baldwin  is  too  fond 
of  his  books  to  think  of  any  lady  ;  much  less  of  one, 
so  unworthy  of  his  attentions  as  I  am." 

George  heard  this — nestled  a  little — threw  back  his 
shoulders — placed  his  arms  a  kimbo,  and  looked  at  the 
picture  with  wonderful  independence. 

Then  M  iss  Evelina  was  .handed  to  the  piano,  and  to  a 
simple,  beautiful  air,  she  sang  a  well-written  song,  the 
burden  of  which  was,  an  apology  for  love  at  first  sight. 
This  was  wanton  cruelty  to  an  unresisting  captive.  To 
do  her  justice,  however,  her  performance  had  not  been 
equalled  during  the  evening. 

The  company  at  length  began  to  retire  ;  and  so  long 
as  a  number  remained  sufficient  to  give  him  an  apology 
for  staying,  George  delayed  his  departure.  The  last 
group  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  finally  rose,  and  George 
commenced  a  fruitless  search  for  his  hat — fruitless,  be- 
cause  he  looked  for  it  where  he  knew  it  was  not  to  be 
found.  But  a  servant  was  more  successful,  and  brought 
it  to  him,  just  as  he  was  giving  up  the  search  as  hope 
less,  and  commencing  a  conversation  with  Miss  Smith, 
for  the  night. 

"  Why  where  did  you  find  it  ?"  said  George,  with 
seeming  surprise  and  pleasure  at  the  discovery. 


GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C.  95 

"  Out  da,  in  de  entry,  sir,  whay  all  de  gentleman  put 
da  hats." 

"  Oh,  I  ought  to  have  known  that." — 

"  Good-bye,  Miss  Evelina  !"  said  George,  throwing  a 
melting  eloquence  into  the  first  word,  and  reaching  forth 
his  hand. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Baldwin !"  returned  she,  "  1 
hope  you  will  not  be  quite  so  great  a  stranger  here  as 
you  have  been.  Pa  has  often  wondered  that  you  never 
visit  him." — Here  she  relinquished  his  hand  with  a  gentle, 
but  sensible  pressure,  which  might  mean  two  or  three 
things.  Whatever  was  its  meaning,  it  ran  like  nitrous 
oxide  through  every  fibre  of  George's  composition, 
and  robbed  him  for  a  moment  of  his  last  ray  of  intel 
lect. 

"  Believe  me,  Miss  Smith,"  said  he,  as  if  he  were  open 
ing  a  murder  case,  "  believe  me — there  are  fascinations 
about  this  hospitable  dome — in  the  delicate  touches  of 
the  pencil  which  adorn  it,  and  in  the  soft  breathings  of 
the  piano,  awaked  by  the  hand  which  I  have  just  relin 
quished,  which  will  not  permit  me  to  delay,  as  hereto 
fore,  those  visits  which  professional  duty  requires  me  to 
make  to  your  kind  parent,  (your  father,)  a  single  mo 
ment  beyond  the  time  that  his  claims  to  my  respects  be 
come  absolute — Good  evening,  Miss  Smith." 

"  Did  ever  mortal  of  common  sense,  talk  and  act  so 
much  like  an  arrant  fool  as  I  have  this  evening !"  said 
George,  as  the  veil  of  night  fell  upon  the  visions  which 
had  danced  before  his  eyes,  for  the  four  preceding 
hours. 

Though  it  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock  at  night  when 
he  reached  his  office,  he  could  not  sleep  until  he  laid  the 
adventures  of  the  evening  before  his  father  and  mother. 
The  return  mail  brought  him  a  letter  from  his  parents, 
written  by  his  mother's  hand,  which  we  regret  we  can- 


96  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

not  give  a  place  in  this  narrative.  Suffice  it  to  say,  it 
was  kind  and  affectionate,  but  entirely  too  cold  for  the 
temperature  of  George's  feelings.  It  admitted  the  in- 
trinsic  excellence  of  Miss  Smith's  views  and  sentiments, 
but  expressed  serious  apprehensions  that  her  habits  of 
life  would  prove  an  insuperable  barrier  to  her  ever  put 
ting  them  in  full  practice.  "  We  all  admit,  my  dear 
George,"  said  the  amiable  writer,  "  the  value  of  indus 
try,  economy — in  short,  of  all  the  domestic  and  social 
virtues ;  but  how  small  the  number  who  practice  them  ! 
Golden  sentiments  are  to  be  picked  up  any  where.  In 
this  age  they  are  upon  the  lips  of  every  body  ;  but  we 
do  not  find  that  they  exert  as  great  an  influence  upon 
the  morals  of  society,  as  they  did  in  the  infancy  of  our 
Republic,  when  they  were  less  talked  of.  For  ourselves, 
we  confess  we  prize  the  gentleman  or  lady  who  habitu 
ally  practices  one  Christian  virtue,  much  higher,  than  we 
do  the  one  who  barely  lectures  eloquently,  upon  them 
all.  But  we  are  not  so  weak  or  so  uncharitable  as  to 
suppose,  that  none  who  discourse  fluently  upon  them, 
can  possess  them." 

****** 
"  The  whole  moral  which  we  would  deduce  from  the 
foregoing  remarks,  is,  one  which  your  own  observation 
must  have  taught  you  a  thousand  times  ;  that  but  little 
confidence  is  to  be  reposed  in  fine  sentiments,  which  do 
not  come  recommended  by  the  life  and  conduct  of  the 
person  who  retails  them.  And  yet,  familiar  as  you  are 
with  this  truth,  you  certainly  have  more  command  over 
your  judgment,  than  have  most  young  men  of  your  age, 
if  you  do  not  entirely  forget  it,  the  moment  you  hear 
such  sentiments  from  the  lips  of  "  a  lady  possessing 
strong  personal  attractions.'  There  is  a  charm  in 
beauty,  which  even  philosophy  is  constrained  to  acknowl- 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  97 

edge ;  and  which  youth  instinctively  transfers  to  all  the 
moral  qualities  of  its  possessor." 

****** 

"  When  you  come  to  know  the  elements  of  which 
connubial  happiness  is  composed;  you  will  be  astonished 
to  find,  that  with  few  exceptions,  they  are  things  which 
you  now  consider  the  veriest  trifles  imaginable.  It  is  a 
happy  ordination  of  Providence,  that  it  should  be  so  ; 
for  this  brings  matrimonial  bliss  within  the  reach  of  all 
classes  of  persons."  *  *  *  * 

"  Harmony  of  thought  and  feeling  upon 
the  little  daily  occurrences  of  life,  congeniality  of  views 
and  sentiments,  between  yourselves  and  your  connexions 
on  either  side,  similarity  of  habits  and  pursuits  among 
your  immediate  relatives  and  friends,  if  not  essential  to 
nuptial  bliss,  are  certainly  its  chief  ingredients."  * 

*  "  Having  pointed  you 

to  the  sources  of  conjugal  felicity,  your  own  judgment 
will  spare  my  trembling  hand  -the  painful  duty  of  point 
ing  you  to  those  fountains  of  bitterness  and  wo — but  I 
forget  that  I  am  representing  your  father  as  well  as 
myself." 

George  read  the  long  letter,  from  which  the  foregoing 
extracts  are  taken,  with  deep  interest,  and  \vith  some 
alarm  ;  but  he  was  not  in  a  situation  to  profit  by  his 
parents'  counsels.  He  had  visited  Miss  Smith  repeatedly 
in  the  time  he  was  waiting  to  hear  from  his  parents  ; 
and  though  he  had  discovered  many  little  foibles  in  her 
character,  he  found  a  ready  apology,  or  an  easy  remedy 
for  them  all. 

The  lapse  of  a  few  months  found  them  engaged  ;  and 
George,  the  happiest  mortal  upon  earth. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  Evelina,"  said  he,  as  soon  as 
they  had  interchanged  their  vows,  "  I  go  to  render  my 
self  worthy  of  the  honor  you  have  conferred  upon  me. 


98  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

My  studies,  which  love,  doubt  and  anxiety  have  too  long 
interrupted,  shall  now  be  renewed  with  redoubled  inten 
sity.  My  Evelina's  interest  being  associated  with  all 
my  labors,  will  turn  them  to  pleasures  ;  my  honor, 
being  hers,  I  shall  court  it  with  untiring  zeal.  She  will 
therefore,  excuse  me,  if  my  visits  are  not  repeated  in 
future,  quite  as  often  as  they  have  been  heretofore." 

"  What  a'ready,  Mr.  Baldwin !"  exclaimed  she,  weep 
ing  most  beautifully. 

"  Why  no,  not  for  the  world,  if  my  dear  Evelina 
says  not!  But  I  thought  that — I  flattered  myself— I 
hoped — my  Evelina  would  find  a  sufficient  apology  in 
the  motive." 

The  little  mistake  was  rectified  in  the  course  of  an 
hour,  and  they  parted  more  in  raptures  with  each  other 
than  they  had  ever  been. 

George  continued  his  visits  as  before,  and  in  the  mean 
time  his  business  began  to  suffer  from  neglect,  of  which 
his  clients  occasionally  reminded  him,  with  all  the  frank 
ness  which  one  exhibits  at  seeing  a  love  affair  carried  on 
with  too  much  zeal,  and  at  his  expense.  In  truth 
George's  heart  had  more  than  once  entertained  a  wish, 
(for  his  lips  dare  not  utter  it,)  that  his  charming  Evelina's 
affection  could  come  down  to  a  hundred  of  Wedgewood, 
when  the  Circuit  commenced,  and  gave  him  a  temporary 
respite. 

The  evening  before  he  set  out,  he  spent  with  his 
"  charming  Evelina"  of  course,  and  the  interview  closed, 
with  a  most  melting  scene  ;  but  I  may  not  stop  to  des 
cribe  it.  Candor  constrains  me  to  say,  however,  that 
George  got  over  it  before  he  reached  his  office,  which 
he  entered,  actually  whistling  a  merry  tune. 

He  was  at  the  second  Court  of  the  circuit,  and  had 
been  from  home  nearly  a  fortnight,  when  one  of  his 
friends  addressed  him,  with — "  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is, 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  99 

Baldwin,  you'd  better  go  home,  or  Dr.  Bibb  will  cut 
you  out.  There  have  been  two  or  three  parties  in 
town,  since  you  come  away,  at  all  of  which  Miss  Smith 
and  Bibb  were  as  thick  as  two  pick-pockets. — The 
whole  town's  talking  about  them.  I  heard  a  young  lady 
say  to  her,  she'd  tell  you  how  she  was  carrying  on  with 
Bibb,  and  she  declared  upon  her  word  and  honor,  (look 
ing  killniferously  at  Bibb,)  that  she  only  knew  you  as 
her  father's  collecting  attorney." 

George  reddened  deeper  and  deeper  at  every  word  of 
this  ;  but  passed  it  off  with  a  hearty,  hectic  laugh. 

It  was  on  Thursday  afternoon  that  he  received  this 
intelligence,  and  it  met  him  forty  miles  from  home,  and 
twenty-five  from  the  next  Court  in  order.  Two  of  his 
cases  were  yet  undisposed  of.  Of  these  he  gave  hasty 
notes  to  one  of  his  brethren,  in  order  to  guide  him,  if  he 
should  be  forced  to  trial,  but  instructing  him  to  continue 
them  if  he  could.  Having  made  these  arrangements, 
Friday  afternoon,  at  five  o'clock,  found  his  jaded  horse 
at  his  office-door.  George  tarried  here  no  longer  than 
was  necessary  to  change  his  apparel,  and  then  he  has 
tened  to  the  habitation  of  his  "  charming  Evelina." 

He  was  received  at  the  door  by  a  servant,  who  escort 
ed  him  to  the  drawing-room,  and  who,  to  heighten  Eve 
lina's  joy  by  surprise,  instructed  her  maid  to  tell  her, 
that  there  was  a  gentleman  in  the  drawing-room,  who 
wished  to  see  her. 

Minute  after  minute  rolled  away,  and  she  did  not 
make  her  appearance.  After  he  had  been  kept  in  sus 
pense  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  she  entered  the 
room,  dressed  in  bridal  richness  and  taste.  ' 

"  Why,  is  it  you  !"  said  she,  rushing  to  him  in  trans 
ports  :  "  I  thought  it  was  Dr.  Bibb." 

"  And  who  is  Dr.  Bibb,  Evelina  ?"  said  George. 


100  GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C. 

"  He's  a  young  physician,  with  whom  I  had  a  partial 
acquaintance  in  Philadelphia,  and  who  has  just  settled 
himself  in  this  place.  I  want  you  to  get  acquainted  with 
him,  for  he  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  young  gentle- 
men  I  ever  knew  in  my  life." 

"  No  doubt  I  should  be  much  pleased  with  him  ;  but 
do  you  think  he  would  feel  himself  much  honored  or 
improved  by  an  acquaintance  with  <  your  father }s  collect, 
ing  attorney  T  " 

"  Why  ! — Is  it  possible  that  Rebecca  Freeman  has 
told  you  that !  I  never  will  speak  to  her  again.  I  am 
the  most  persecuted  being  upon  earth.  I  can  say  noth 
ing,  nor  do  nothing,  no  matter  how  innocent,  which  some 
one  does  not  make  a  handle  of  to  injure  me." 

Here  Miss  Evelina  burst  into  tears,  as  usual ;  but  there 
being  a  little  passion  mingled  with  her  tears,  on  this  occa 
sion,  her  weeping  was  not  quite  as  interesting  as  it  had  been 
before.  It  subdued  George,  however,  and  paved  the 
way  to  a  reconciliation.  The  obnoxious  expression  was 
explained,  rather  awkwardly,  indeed,  but  satisfactorily  ; 
and  Miss  Freeman  was  acquitted  of  all  blame. 

Matters  were  just  placed  in  this  posture,  when  a  ser 
vant  arrived  to  inform  George  "  that  something  was  the 
matter  with  his  horse,  and  Mr.  Cox,  (his  landlord,) 
thought  he  was  going  to  die." 

George  rose,  and  was  hastening  to  the  relief  of  his  fa 
vorite  of  all  quadrupeds,  when  Miss  Smith  burst  in  a 
very  significant,  but  affected  laugh. 

"  Why  what  is  it  amuses  you  so,  Evelina  1"  inquired 
George,  with  some  surprise. 

"  Oh  nothing,"  said  she  ;  "  1  was  only  thinking  how 
quick  Mr.  Baldwin  forgets  me,  when  his  horse  demands 
his  attentions.  I  declare  I'm  right  jealous  of  my  rival." 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  101 

»  Go  back,  boy,  and  tell  your  master  I  can't  come 
just  now  ;  but  I'll  thank  him  to  do  what  he  can  for  the 
poor  animal." 

Mr.  Cox,  upon  receiving  this  intelligence,  and  learn- 
ing  the  business  which  engrossed  George's  attention,  left 
the  horse  to  take  care  of  himself;  and  he  died  just  be 
fore  George  returned  from  Mr.  Smith's. 

These,  and  a  thousand  little  annoyances,  which  we 
may  not  enumerate,  urged  upon  George  the  importance 
of  hastening  the  nuptials  as  speedily  as  possible. 

Accordingly,  by  all  the  dangers,  ills,  alarms,  and 
anxieties,  which  attend  the  hours  of  engagement,  he 
pressed  her  to  name  the  happy  day  within  the  coming 
month,  when  their  hearts  and  their  destinies  should  be 
inseparably  united. 

But  "  she  could  not  think  of  getting  married  for  two 
years  yet  to  come — then,  one  year  at  least.  At  all 
events,  she  could  not  appoint  a  day  until  she  consulted 
her  dear  Morgiana  Cornelia  Marsh,  of  Canaan,  Vermont. 
Morgiana  was  her  classmate,  and  at  parting  in  Philadel 
phia,  they  had  interchanged  pledges  that  which  ever 
got  married  first,  should  be  waited  upon  by  the  other." 

In  vain  did  George  endeavor  to  persuade  her  that  this 
was  a  school-girl  pledge,  which  Morgiana  had  already 
forgotten,  and  which  she  never  would  fulfil.  His  argu 
ments  only  provoked  a  reproof  of  his  unjust  suspicions 
of  the  "  American  fair." 

Finding  his  arguments  here  unavailing,  he  then  en 
treated  his  "  charming  Evelina"  to  write  immediately  to 
Miss  Marsh,  to  know  when  it  would  be  agreeable  to  her 
to  fulfil  her  promise. 

Weeks  rolled  away  before  Miss  Smith  could  be  pre 
vailed  upon  even  to  write  the  all-important  letter.  She 
despatched  it  at  last,  however ;  and  George  began  to 


102  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

entertain  hopes,  that  a  few  months  would  make  the  dear 
Evelina  his  own. 

In  the  meantime  his  business  fell  in  arrears,  and  his 
clients  corr  plained  loudly  against  him.  He  was  inces 
santly  tortured  with  false  rumors,  of  his  cold  and  indif 
ference  towards  Miss  Smith,  and  of  the  light  and  disres 
pectful  remarks  which  he  had  made  upon  her  ;  but  he 
was  much  more  tortured  by  her  unabated  thirst  for  balls 
and  parties  of  pleasure  ;  her  undiminished  love  of  gene 
ral  admiration,  and  the  unconcealed  encouragement 
which  she  gave  to  the  attentions  of  Dr.  Bibb.  The  ef 
fect  which  these  things  had  upon  his  temper  was  visible 
to  all  his  friends.  He  became  fretful,  petulent,  impatient 
and  melancholy.  Dr.  Bibb  proved,  in  truth,  to  be  a 
most  accomplished,  intelligent  gentleman  ;  and  was  the 
man  who,  above  all  others,  George  would  have  selected 
for  his  friend  and  companion,  had  not  the  imprudences 
of  Evelina  transformed  him  into  a  rival.  As  things 
were,  however,  his  accomplishments  only  embittered 
George's  feelings  towards  him,  provoked  from  George, 
cruel,  misplaced  and  unnatural  sarcasms,  which  the 
world  placed  to  the  account  of  jealousy,  and  in  which 
George's  conscience  forced  him  to  admit  that  the  world 
did  him  nothing  more  nor  less  than  sheer  justice. 

At  length  Miss  Morgiana's  letter  arrived.  It  opened 
with  expressions  of  deep  contrition  that  the  writer  "  should 
have  got  married  without  giving  her  beloved  Evelina 
an  opportunity  of  fulfilling  her  promise  ;  but  really,  after 
all,  she  was  not  to  blame  ;  for  she  did  propose  to  write 
to  her  beloved  Evelina  to  come  on  to  Canaan  ;  but  Papa 
and  Mr.  Huntington,  (her  husband,)  would  not  hear  to 
it — Indeed,  they  both  got  almost  vexed,  that  she  should 
think  of  such  a  thing."  *  *  *  * 

*  *  *  "  But  as  soon  as  my  beloved 

Evelina  gets  married,  she  must  appoint  a  time  at  which 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  103 

we  can  meet  at  Philadelphia,  with  our  husbands,  and 
compare  notes." 

*  *  "I  have  a  thousand  secrets  to  tell  you 

about  married  life;  but  I  must  reserve  them  till  we 
meet.  A  thousand  kisses  to  your  dear  George,  for  me  ; 
and  tell  him  if  I  were  not  a  married  woman  I  should 
certainly  fall  in  love  with  him,  from  your  description  of 
him." 

"  Well,  I  declare,"  said  Evelina,  as  she  folded  up  the 
letter,  "  I  could  not  have  believed  that  Morgiana  would 
have  served  me  so.  I  would  have  died  before  I  would 
have  treated  her  in  the  same  way." 

The  great  obstacle  being  now  removed,  the  wedding 
night  was  fixed  at  the  shortest  time  that  it  could  be,  to 
allow  the  necessary  preparations  ;  which  was  just  three 
months  ahead. 

Before  these  three  months  rolled  away,  George  became 
convinced  that  he  had  staked  his  earthly  happiness  upon 
the  forlorn  hope  of  reforming  Miss  Smith's  errors,  after 
marriage ;  but  his  sense  of  honor  was  too  refined,  to 
permit  him  to  harbor  a  thought  of  breaking  the  engage 
ment  ;  and,  indeed,  so  completely  had  he  became  enam 
ored  of  her,  that  any  perils  seemed  preferable  to  giving 
her  up  forever. 

He  kept  his  parents  faithfully  advised  of  all  the  inci 
dents  of  his  love  and  courtship,  and  every  letter  which 
he  forwarded,  went  like  a  serpent  into  the  Eden  of  peace 
over  which  they  presided.  Their  letters  to  him  never 
came  unembalmed  in  a  mother's  tears,  and  were  never 
read  without  the  tender  response  which  a  mother's  tears 
ever  draws,  from  the  eyes  of  a  truly  affectionate  son. 

The  night  came,  and  George  and  Evelina  were  mar 
ried. 

A  round  of  bridal  parties  succeeded,  every  one  of 
which  served  only  to  heighten  George's  alarms,  and  to 


104  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

depress  his  spirits.  He  could  not  discover  that  marriage 
had  abated,  in  the  smallest  degree,  his  wife's  love  of  ge- 
neral  admiration  and  flattery.  The  delight  which  she 
felt  at  the  attentions  of  the  young  gentlemen,  was  visible 
to  more  eyes  than  his ;  as  was  plainly  evinced  by  the 
throngs  which  attended  her  wheresoever  she  moved. 
Occasionally  their  assiduities  assumed  a  freedom,  which 
was  well  calculated  to  alarm  and  to  inflame  one  whose 
notions  of  married  life,  were  much  less  refined  than  those 
which  George  had  ever  entertained;  but  there  was 
an  apology  for  them,  which  he  knew  he  would  be  forced 
to  admit,  flimsey  as  it  was,  in  truth  ;  namely,  "  they 
were  only  those  special  attentions  which  were  due  to 
the  queen  of  a  bridal  party."  Another  consideration 
forced  him  to  look  in  silence  upon  those  liberties.  His 
wife  had  taken  no  offence  at  them.  She  either  did  not 
repel  them  at  all,  or  she  repelled  them  in  such  a  good 
humored  way,  that  she  encouraged,  rather  than  preven 
ted,  the  repetition  of  them.  For  Mm  therefore  to  have 
interposed,  would  have  been  considered  an  act  of  supere 
rogation. 

To  the  great  delight  of  George,  the  parties  ended ; 
and  the  young  couple  set  out  on  a  visit  to  Lagrange,  the 
residence  of  George's  parents.  On  their  way  thither, 
Evelina  was  secluded,  of  course,  from  the  gaze  of  every 
person  but  her  husband  ;  and  her  attachment  now  be 
came  as  much  too  ardent,  as  it  had  before  been  too  cold. 
If,  at  their  stages,  he  left  her  for  a  moment,  she  was  piqued 
at  his  coldness,  or  distressed  at  his  neglect.  If  he  en 
gaged  in  a  conversation  with  an  acquaintance  or  a  stran 
ger,  he  was  sure  to  be  interrupted  by  his  wife's  waiting- 
maid,  Flora,  with  "  Miss  'V'lina  say,  please  go  da,  sir ;" 
and  when  he  went,  he  always  found  her  in  tears,  or  in  a 
pet,  at  having  been  neglected  so  long  by  him,  «  when  he 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  105 

knew  she  had  no  friend  or  companion  to  entertain  her, 
but  himself." 

George  had  been  long  acquainted  with  the  ladies  of 
the  houses  at  which  they  stopt.  They  all  esteemed 
him,  and  were  all  anxious  to  be  made  acquainted  with 
his  wife  ;  but  she  could  not  be  drawn  from  her  room, 
from  the  time  she  entered  a  house,  until  she  rose  to  leave 
it.  All  her  meals  were  taken  in  her  room  ;  and  George 
was  rebuked  by  her,  because  he  would  not  follow  her 
example.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  reasoned  with  her  upon 
the  impropriety  of  changing  his  deportment  to  his  old 
acquaintances  immediately  after  his  marriage.  He  sta 
ted  to  her,  that  the  change  would  be  attributed  to  pride — 
that  he  should  lose  a  number  of  humble,  but  valuable 
acquaintances,  which,  to  a  professional  gentleman,  is  no 
small  loss.  But  "  she  could  not  understand  that  a  gen- 
tleman  is  at  liberty  to  neglect  his  wife,  for  '  humble,  but 
valuable  acquaintances.'  " 

When  they  reached  Lagrange,  they  received  as  warm 
a  welcome  from  George's  parents,  as  parents,  laboring 
under  their  apprehensions,  could  give  ;  but  Mary  and 
Martha,  having  nothing  to  mar  their  pleasures,  (for  they 
had  not  been  permitted  to  know  the  qualifications  which 
George's  last  letters  had  annexed  to  his  first,)  received 
her  with  all  the  delight  which  the  best  hearts  could  feel, 
at  welcoming  to  the  family,  in  the  character  of  a  sister, 
the  beautiful,  amiable,  accomplished,  intelligent,  wealthy, 
Miss  Smith.  In  anticipation  of  her  coming,  the  girls  had 
brushed  up  their  history,  philosophy,  geography,  astrono 
my  and  botany,  for  her  especial  entertainment — or  rather, 
that  they  might  appear  a  little  at  home  when  their  new 
sister  should  invite  them  to  a  ramble  over  the  fields  of 
science.  The  labor  answered  not  its  purpose,  however ; 
Evelina  would  neither  invite,  nor  be  invited  to  any  such 
rambles. 

i2 


106  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

The  news  of  George's  arrival  at  Lagrange  with  his 
wife,  brought  many  of  his  rustic  acquaintances  to  visit 
him.  To  many  of  them,  George  was  as  a  son,  or  a 
brother,  for  he  had  been  acquainted  with  them,  from  his 
earliest  years,  and  he  had  a  thousand  times  visited  their 
habitations,  with  the  freedom  with  which  he  entered  his 
father's.  They  met  him,  therefore,  with  unrestrained 
familiarity,  and  treated  his  wife  as  a  part  of  himself. 
George  had  endeavored  to  prepare  her  for  the  plain, 
blunt,  but  honest  familiarities,  of  his  early  friends.  He 
had  assured  her  that  however  rude  they  might  seem, 
they  were  perfectly  innocent ;  nay,  they  were  tokens  of 
guileless  friendship  ;  for  the  natural  disposition  of  plain, 
unlettered  farmers,  was  to  keep  aloof  from  "  the  quality," 
as  they  called  the  people  of  the  town,  and  that  by  as 
much  as  they  overcame  this  disposition,  by  so  much  did 
they  mean  to  be  understood  as  evincing  favor ;  but  Eve- 
lina  profited  but  little  by  his  lessons. 

The  first  visitor  was  old  Mr.  Dawson,  who  had 
dandled  George  on  his  knee  a  thousand  times,  and  who, 
next  to  his  father,  was  the  sincerest  male  friend  that 
George  had  living. 

"  Well,  Georgy,"  said  the  old  man,  "  and  you've  got 
married  ?" 

"  Yes,  uncle  Sammy  ;  and  here's  my  wife — what  do 
you  think  of  her  ?" 

"  Why  she's  a  mighty  pretty  creater ;  but  you'd  bet 
ter  took  my  Nance.  She'd  Jave  made  you  another  sort 
of  wife,  to  this  pretty  little  soft  creater." 

"  I  don't  know  sir,"  said  Evelina,  a  little  fiery,  "  how 
you  can  tell  what  sort  of  a  wife  a  person  will  make, 
whom  you  never  saw.  And  I  presume  Mr.  Baldwin  is 
old  enough  to  choose  for  himself." 

"Ah,  well  now  I  know  he'd  better  'ave  took  my 
Nance,"  said  the  old  man,  with  a  dry  smile.  "  Georgy, 

i 


GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C,  107 

my  son,  I'm  afraid  you've  got  yourself  into  bad  busi 
ness  ;  but  I  wish  you  much  happiness,  my  boy.  Come, 
neighbor  Baldwin,  let's  go  take  a  look  at  your  farm." 

"  Oh  no,"  said  old  Mr.  Baldwin,  "we  will  not  go  till 
I  make  my  daughter  better  acquainted  with  you.  She 
is  unused  to  our  country  manners,  and  therefore  does  not 
understand  them.  Evelina,  my  dear,  Mr.  Dawson  is 
one  of  our  best  and  kindest  neighbors,  and  you  and  he 
must  not  break  upon  your  first  acquaintance.  He  was 
only  joking  George  in  what  he  said,  and  had  no  idea 
that  you  would  take  it  seriously." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Evelina,  "  if  Mr.  Dawson  will  say 
that  he  did  not  intend  to  wound  my  feelings,  I'm  willing 
to  forgive  him." 

"  Oh,  God  love  your  pretty  little  soul  of  you,"  said 
the  old  man,  "  I  did  n't  even  know  you  had  any  feelings ; 
but  as  to  the  forgiving  part,  why,  that's  neither  here, 

nor  there" Here  Evelina  rose  indignantly,  and  left 

the  room. 

"  Well  Georgy,  my  son,"  continued  the  old  man, 
"  I'm  sorry  your  wife's  so  touchy  !  but  you  must  n't  for 
get  old  daddy  Dawson.  Come,  my  boy,  to  our  house, 
like  you  used  to,  when  you  and  Sammy,  and  Nancy,  used 
to  sit  round  the  bowl  of  buttermilk  under  the  big  oak 
that  covered  Mammy  Dawson's  dairy.  I  always  think 
of  poor  Sammy  when  I  see  you,"  (brushing  a  tear  from 
his  eye,  with  the  back  of  his  hand.)  "  I'm  obliged  to 
love  you,  you  young  dog  ;  and  I  want  to  love  your  wife 
too,  if  she'd  let  me ;  but  be  that  as  it  may,  Sammy's 
playmate  won't  forget  daddy  Dawson,  will  he,  George." 

George  could  only  say  "  Never  !"  with  a  filling  eye ; 
and  the  old  men  set  out  for  the  fields. 

Most  of  the  neighbors  who  came  to  greet  George 
upon  his  return  to  Lagrange  shared  Mr.  Dawson's  fate. 
One  wanted  to  span  Evelina's  waist,  for  he  declared  "  she 


108  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

was  the  littlest  creater  round  the  waist  he  ever  seed." 
Another  would  "  buss  her,  because  she  was  George's 
wife,  and  because  it  was  the  first  chance  he  ever  had  in 
all  his  life  to  buss  'the  quality.'  "  A  third  proposed  a 
swap  of  wives  with  George ;  and  all  made  some  remark 
too  blunt  for  Evelina's  refined  ear.  Having  no  tact  for 
turning  off  these  things  playfully,  and  as  little  disposi 
tion  to  do  so,  she  repelled  them  with  a  town  dignity, 
which  soon  relieved  her  of  these  intrusions  ;  and  in  less 
than  a  week,  stopt  the  visits  of  George's  first  and  warm 
est  friends,  to  his  father's  house. 

Her  habits,  views,  and  feelings,  agreeing  in  nothing 
with  the  family  in  which  she  was  placed,  Evelina  was 
unhappy  herself,  and  made  all  around  her  unhappy. 
Her  irregular  hours  of  retiring  and  rising,  her  dilatori- 
ness  in  attending  her  meals,  her  continued  complaints  of 
indisposition,  deranged  all  the  regulations  of  the  family, 
and  begat  such  confusion  in  the  household,  that  even  the 
elder  Mrs.  Baldwin  occasionally  lost  her  equanimity  ; 
so  that  when  Evelina  announced  a  week  before  the  ap 
pointed  time  that  she  must  return  home,  the  intelligence 
was  received  with  pleasure,  rather  than  pain. 

Upon  their  return  home,  George  and  his  lady  found 
a  commodious  dwelling,  handsomely  furnished  for  their 
reception.  Mr.  Smith  presented  him  this  in  lieu  of  the 
check  of  which  he  had  spoken,  before  the  marriage  of 
his  daughter ;  and  though  the  gift  did  not  redeem  the 
promise  by  $14,000,  George  was  perfectly  satisfied. 
Mrs.  Smith  added  to  the  donation,  her  own  cook  and 
carriage-driver.  Flora,  the  maid,  had  been  considered 
Evelina's  from  her  infancy.  Nothing  could  have  been 
more  agreeable  to  George,  than  the  news  that  greeted 
him  on  his  arrival,  that  he  was  at  liberty  to  name  the 
day  when  he  would  conduct  Evelina  to  his  own  house  ; 
for  his  last  bope  of  happiness  hung  upon  this  last  change 


t 

GEORGIA    SCENES,   ScC.  109 

of  life.  He  allowed  himself  but  two  days  after  his  re- 
turn,  to  lay  in  his  store  of  provisions  ;  and*  on  the  third, 
at  four  in  the  afternoon,  he  led  his  wife  to  their  mutual 
home. 

"  To  this  moment,  my  dear  Evelina,"  said  George,  as 
they  seated  themselves  in  their  own  habitation,  "  to  this 
moment  have  I  looked  forward  for  many  months  with 
the  liveliest  interest.  I  have  often  figured  to  myself  the 
happy  hours  that  we  should  enjoy  under  the  common 
roof,  and  I  hope  the  hour  has  arrived,  when  we  will  unite 
our  endeavors  to  realize  my  fond  anticipations.  Let  us 
then,  upon  the  commencement  of  a  new  life,  interchange 
our  pledges,  that  we  will  each  exert  ourselves  to  pro- 
mote  the  happiness  of  the  other.  In  many  respects,  it 
must  be  acknowledged  that  our  views  and  dispositions 
are  different ;  but  they  will  soon  be  assimilated  by  iden 
tity  of  interest,  community  of  toil,  and  a  frank  and  af 
fectionate  interchange  of  opinions,  if  we  will  but  con 
sent  to  submit  to  some  little  sacrifices  in  the  beginning, 
to  attain  this  object.  Now  tell  me,  candidly  and  fear 
lessly,  my  Evelina,  what  would  you  have  me  be,  and 
what  would  you  have  me  do,  to  answer  your  largeet 
wishes  from  your  husband  ?" 

"  I  would  have  you,"  said  Evelina,  "  thi>.k  more  of 
me  than  all  the  world  beside — I  would  have  you  the 
first  lawyer  in  the  State — I  would  have  you  overcome 
your  dislike  to  such  innocent  amusements  as  tea-parties 
and  balls — and  1  would  have  you  take  me  to  the  Springs, 
or  to  New-York,  or  Philadelphia,  every  summer. — Now 
what  would  you  have  me  do  ?" 

"  1  would  have  you  rise  when  I  do — Regulate  your 
servants  with  system — See  that  they  perform  their  duties 
in  the  proper  way,  and  the  proper  time — Let  all  provi 
sions  go  through  your  hands,  and  devote  your  spare  time 
to  reading  valuable  works,  painting,  music,  or  any  other 


110  GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C. 

improving  employment,  or  innocent  recreation.  Be 
thus,  and  I  '  will  think  more  of  you  than  all  the  world 
beside  ;'  «  I  will  be  the  first  lawyer  in  the  State,'  and 
after  a  few  years  you  shall  visit  the  North,  or  the 
Springs  every  summer,  if  you 'desire  it." 

"  Lord,  if  I  do  all  these  things  you  mention,  I  shall 
have  no  time  for  reading,  music  or  painting." 

"  Yes  you  will.     My  mother" — 

"  Oh,  for  the  Lord's  sake,  Mr.  Baldwin,  hush  talking 
about  your  mother.  I'm  sick  and  tired  of  hearing  you 
talk  of  "  my  mother"  this,  and  "  my  mother"  that — 
And  when  I  went  to  your  house,  I  did'nt  see  that  she 
got  along  a  bit  better  than  my  mother— except  in  her 
cooking :  and  that  was  only  because  your  mother  cook 
ed  the  meats,  and  your  sisters  made  the  pastry.  I  don't 
see  the  use  of  having  servants,  if  one  must  do  every 
thing  herself." 

"  My  sisters  make  the  pastry,  to  be  sure ;  because 
mother  desires  that  they  should  learn  how  to  do  these 
things,  that  they  may  better  superintend  the  doing  of 
them,  when  they  get  married  ;  and  because  she  thinks 
such  things  should  not  pass  through  the  hands  of  ser 
vants,  when  it  can  be  avoided ;  but  my  mother  never 
coeks." 

"She  does,  for  I  saw  her  lifting  off  a  pot  myself." 

«  She  does  not"— 

Here  the  entry  of  the  cook  stopt  a  controversy  that 
was  becoming  rather  warm  for  thejlrst  evening  at  home. 

"  1  want  the  keys  Miss  'V'lina,  to  get  out  supper," 
said  the  cook. 

"  There  they  are,  aunt*  Clary,"  said  Evelina  ;  "  try 
and  have  every  thing  very  nice." 

*  Aunt"  and  "  mauma,"  or  "  maura,"  its  abreviation,  are  terms  of 
respect,  <  ommonly  used  by  children,  to  aged  negroes.  The  first  gene 
rally  prevails  m  the  up  country,  and  the  second  on  the  sea-board. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  Ill 

"  My  dear,  I  would  n't  send  her  to  the  provisions  un 
attended  :  every  thing  depends  upon  your  commencing 
right"— 

"  Hush  !"  said  Evelina,  with  some  agitation,  "  I 
would  n't  have  her  hear  you  for  the  world.  She'd  be 
very  angry  if  she  thought  we  suspected  her  honesty. 
Ma  always  gave  her  up  the  keys,  and  she  says  she  never 
detected  her  in  a  theft  in  all  her  life." 

"  Very  well,"  said  George,  "  we'll  see." 

After  long  waiting,  the  first  supper  made  its  appear 
ance.  It  consisted  of  smoked  tea,  half-baked  biscuit, 
butter,  and  sliced  venison. 

"  Why,"  said  Evelina,  as  she  sipped  her  first  cup  of 
tea,  "  this  tea  seems  to  me  to  be  smoked.  Here,  Flora, 
throw  it  out  and  make  some  more-.  Oh  me  !  the  biscuit 
an't  done.  Aunt  Clary's  made  quite  an  unfortunate 
beginning.  But  I  did  'nt  want  any  supper — do  you  ?" 

"  I  can  do  without  it,"  said  George,  coldly,  "  if  you 
can." 

"  Well,  let's  not  eat  any,  and  that  will  be  the  very  way 
to  mortify  aunt  Clary,  without  making  her  mad.  To 
morrow  I'll  laugh  at  her  for  cheating  us  out  of  our 
supper  ;  and  she  wont  do  so  any  more.  The  old  crea 
ture  has  very  tender  feelings." 

"  I'll  starve  for  a  week  to  save  Clary's  feelings,"  said 
George,  "  if  you  will  only  quit  aunting  her.  How  can 
you  expect  her  to  treat  you  or  your  orders,  with  respect, 
when  you  treat  her  as  your  superior  ?" 

"  Well,  really,  I  can't  see  any  great  harm  in  treating 
aged  people  with  respect,  even  if  their  skins  are  black." 

"  I  wish  you  had  thought  of  that  when  you  were 
talking  to  old  Mr.  Dawson.  I  should  think  he  was 
entitled  to  as  much  respect,  as  an  infernal  black 
wench  !" 


112  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

This  was  the  harshest  expression  that  had  ever 
escaped  George's  lips.  Evelina  could  not  stand  it. 
She  left  the  room,  threw  herself  on  a  bed,  and  burst 
into  tears. 

In  the  course  of  the  night  the  matter  was  adjusted. 

The  next  morning.  George  rose  with  the  Sun,  and  he 
tried  to  prevail  upon  his  wife  to  do  the  same ;  but  "  she 
could  not  see  what  was  the  use  of  her  getting  up  so  soon, 
just  to  set  about  doing  nothing  :  and  to  silence  all  further 
importunities  then  and  after,  upon  that  score,  she  told 
him  flatly  she  never  would  consent  to  rise  at  that 
hour." 

At  half  after  eight,  she  made  her  appearance  ;  and 
breakfast  came  in.  It  consisted  of  muddy  Coffee,  hard- 
boiled  eggs,  and  hard-burnt  biscuit. 

"  Why,  what  has  got  into  aunt  Clary,"  said  Evelina 
"  that  she  cooks  so  badly  !" 

"  Why,  we  mortified  her  so  much,  my  dear,  by  eat 
ing  no  supper  ;"  said  George,  "  and  we  have  driven  her 
to  the  opposite  extreme.  Let  us  now  throw  the  break 
fast  upon  her  hands,  except  the  coffee,  and  perhaps  she'll 
be  mortified  back  to  a  medium." 

"  That's  very  witty,  indeed,"  said  Evelina ;  "  You 
must  have  learnt  it  from  the  amiable  and  accomplished 
Miss  Nancy  Dawson." 

This  was  an  allusion  which  George  could  not  with 
stand  ;  and  he  reddened  to  scarlet. 

"  Evelina,"  said  he,  "  you  are  certainly  the  strangest 
being  that  1  ever  met  with  ;  you  are  more  respectful  to 
negroes  than  whites,  and  to  every  body  else  than  your 
husband." 

"  Because,"  returned  she,  "  negroes  treat  me  witk 
more  respect  than  some  whites ;  and  every  body  else, 
with  more  respect  than  my  husband." 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C,  118 

George  was  reluctant  to  commence  tightening  the 
reins  of  discipline  with  his  servants,  for  the  first  few 
weeks  of  his  mastership :  and,  therefore,  he  bore  in 
silence,  but  in  anger,  their  idleness,  their  insolence,  and 
their  disgusting  familiarities  with  his  wife.  He  often 
visite-i  the  kitchen,  unobserved,  of  nights ;  and  almost 
always  found  it  thronged  with  gay  company,  revelling 
in  all  the  dainties  of  his  closet,  smoke-house,  sideboard, 
and  pantry.  He  communicated  his  discoveries  to  his 
wife,  but  she  found  no  difficulty  in  accounting  satisfacto 
rily  for  all  that  he  had  seen.  "  Clary's  husband  had 
-always  supplied  her  with  every  thing  she  wanted.  Flora 
had  a  hundred  ways  of  getting  money  ;  and  Billy,  (the 
carriage-driver,)  was  always  receiving  little  presents 
from  her,  and  others." 

At  the  end  of  three  weeks  aunt  Clary  announced  that 
the  barrel  of  flour  was  out. 

«  Now,"  said  George,  "  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  that 
it  is  upon  your  flour,  and  not  upon  her  husband's,  that 
Aunt  Clary  gives  her  entertainments." 

"  Why,  law  me  !"  said  Evelina  ;  "  1  think  it  has  last 
ed  wonderfully.  You  recollect  Ma  and  Pa  have  been 
here  most  every  day." 

"  Had  they  boarded  with  us,"  said  George,  «  we 
could  not  have  consumed  a  barrel  of  flour  in  three 
weeks." 

In  quick  succession  came  the  news  that  the  tea,  cof 
fee,  and  sugar  were  out ;  all  of  which  Evelina  thought 
"  had  lasted  wonderfully." 

It  would  be  useless  to  recount  the  daily  differences  of 
George  and  his  wife.  In  nothing  could  they  agree  ; 
and  the  consequence  was,  that  at  the  end  of  six  weeks, 
they  had  come  to  downright  quarrelling  ;  through  all 
which  Evelina  sought,  and  received  the  sympathy  of 
Miss  Flora  and  aunt  Clary. 
j 


114  »  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

About  this  time  the  Superior  Court  commenced  its 
session  in  the  city  ;  and  a  hundred  like  favors,  received 
from  the  judge  and  the  bar,  imposed  upon  George  the 
absolute  necessity  of  giving  a  dinner  to  his  brethren. 
He  used  every  precaution  to  pass  it  off  well.  He  gave 
his  wife  four  days  notice  ;  he  provided  every  thing  him- 
self,  of  the  best  that  the  town  would  afford  ;  he  became 
all  courtesy  and  affection  to  his  wife,  and  all  respect 
and  cheerfulness  to  aunt  Clary,  in  the  interim.  He  pro- 
mised  all  the  servants  a  handsome  present  each,  if  they 
would  acquit  themselves  well  upon  this  occasion,  and 
charged  them  all,  over  and  over,  to  remember,  that 
the  time  between  two,  and  half-past  three,  was  all 
that  the  bar  could  allow  to  his  entertainment  ;  and 
consequently,  dinner  must  be  upon  the  table  precisely 
at  two. 

The  day  came,  and  the  company  assembled.  Eve 
lina,  attired  like  a  queen,  received  them  in  the  drawing- 
room;  and  all  were  delighted  with  her.  All  were 
cheerful,  talkative  and  happy.  Two  o'clock  came,  and 
no  dinner — A  quarter  after — and  no  dinner.  The  con 
versation  began  to  flag  a  little.  Half  past  two  rolled 
round — and  no  dinner — Conversation  sunk  to  temperate, 
and  George  rose  to  intemperate.  Three  quarters  past 
two  came — but  no  dinner — Conversation  sunk  to  freez 
ing,  and  George  rose  to  fever  heat. 

At  this  interesting  moment,  while  he  was  sauntering 
every  way,  George  sauntered  near  his  wife,  who  was 
deeply  engaged  in  a  conversation  with  his  brother  Paine, 
a  grave,  intelligent  young  man,  and  he  detected  her  in 
the  act  of  repeating,  verbatim  et  literatim,  the  pretty 
sentences  which  first  subdued  his  heart. 

"Good  Lord  !"  muttered  George  to  himself;  "Jen- 
kinson,  in  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  with  his  one  sentence 
of  learning,  revived  !" 


GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C.  115 

He  rushed  out  of  the  room,  in  order  to  enquire  what 
delayed  dinner ;  and  on  leaving  the  dining-room,  was 
met  at  the  door  by  Flora,  with  two  pale-blue,  dry,  boiled 
fowls  ;  boiled  almost  to  dismemberment,  upon  a  dish 
large  enough  to  contain  a  goodly  sized  shote ;  their  legs 
sticking  straight  out,  with  a  most  undignified  straddle, 
and  bowing  with  a  bewitching  grace  and  elasticity  to 
George,  with  every  step  that  Flora  made. 

Behind  her  followed  Billy,  with  a  prodidgious  roast 
turkey,  upon  a  dish  that  was  almost  concealed  by  its 
contents,  his  legs  extended  like  the  fowls,  the  back  and 
sides  burnt  to  a  crisp,  and  the  breast  raw.  The  old  gen 
tleman  was  handsomely  adorned  with  a  large  black 
twine  necklace  ;  and  through  a  spacious  window,  that 
by  chance  or  design  the  cook  had  left  open,  the  light 
poured  into  his  vacant  cavity,  gloriously. 

George  stood  petrified  at  the  sight ;  nor  did  he  wake 
from  his  stupor  of  amazement  until  he  was  roused  by  a 
burnt  round  of  beef,  and  a  raw  leg  of  mutton,  making 
by  him  for  the  same  port  in  which  the  fowls  and  turkey 
had  been  moored. 

He  rushed  into  the  kitchen  in  a  fury.  «  You  infernal 
heifer !"  said  he  to  aunt  Clary  ;  "  what  kind  of  cooking 
is  this  you're  setting  before  my  company  ?" 

« Eh — Eh  !  Name  o'  God,  Mas.  George  ;  how 
any  body  gwine  cook  ting  good  when  you  hurry  'em 
so?" 

George  looked  for  something  to  throw  at  her  head ; 
but  fortunately  found  nothing. 

He  returned  to  the  house,  and  found  his  wife  enter 
taining  the  company  with  a  never  ending  Sonata,  on  the 
piano. 

Dinner  was  at  length  announced,  and  an  awful  sight 
it  was  when  full  spread.  George  made  as  good  apolo 
gies  as  he  could  ;  but  his  wife  was  not  in  the  least  dis- 


116  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

concerted — Indeed,  she  seemed  to  assume  an  air  of  self- 
complaisance,  at  the  profusion  and  richness  which  crown 
ed  her  board. 

The  gentlemen  ate  but  little,  owing,  as  they  said,  to 
their  having  all  eaten  a  very  hearty  breakfast  that 
morning.  George  followed  his  guests  to  the  Court 
House,  craved  a  continuance  of  his  cases  for  the  even 
ing,  on  the  ground  of  indisposition  ;  and  it  was  granted, 
with  an  unaccountable  display  of  sympathy.  Me  return 
ed  home,  and  embarked  in  a  quarrel  with  his  wife, 
which  lasted  until  Evelina's  exhausted  nature  sunk  to 
sleep  under  it,  at  three  the  next  morning. 

George's  whole  character  now  became  completely 
revolutionized.  Universal  gloom  overspread  his  coun 
tenance — He  lost  his  spirits,  his  energy,  his  life,  his  tem 
per,  his  everything  ennobling  ;  and  he  had  just  began 
to  surrender  himself  to  the  bottle,  when  an  accident  oc 
curred  which  revived  his  hopes  of  happiness  with  his 
wife,  and  determined  him  to  make  one  more  effort  to 
bring  her  into  his  views. 

Mr.  Smith,  by  an  unfortunate  investment  m  cotton, 
failed  ;  and  after  a  bungling  attempt  to  secrete  a  few 
thousand  dollars  from  his  creditors,  (for  he  knew  George 
too  well  to  claim  his  assistance  in  such  a  matter,)  he 
was  left  without  a  dollar  that  he  could  call  his  own. 
Evelina  and  her  parents  all  seemed  as  if  they  would  go 
crazy  under  the  misfortune  ;  and  George  now  assumed 
the  most  affectionate  deportment  to  his  wife,  and  the 
most  soothing  demeanor  to  her  parents.  The  parents 
were  completely  won  to  him  ;  and  his  wife,  for  once, 
seemed  to  feel  towards  him  as  she  should.  George 
availed  himself  of  this  moment  to  make  another,  and 
the  last  attempt,  to  reform  her  habits  and  sentiments. 

"  My  dear  Evelina,"  said  he,  "  we  have  nothing  now 
to  look  to,  but  our  own  exertions,  for  a  support.  This, 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  117 

I 

and  indeed  affluence,  lies  within  our  reach,  if  we  will 
but  seek  them  in  a  proper  way.  You  have  only  to  use 
industry  and  care  within  doors,  and  I  without,  to  place 
us  in  a  very  few  years,  above  the  frowns  of  fortune. 
We  have  only  to  consult  each  other's  happiness,  to 
make  each  other  happy.  Come  then,. my  love,  forget- 
ing  our  disgraceful  bickerings,  let  us  now  commence  a 
new  life.  Believe  me,  there  is  no  being  on  this  earth, 
that  my  heart  can  love  as  it  can  you,  if  you  will  but 
claim  its  affections  ;  and  you  know  how  to  command 
them."  Thus,  at  much  greater  length,  and  with  much 
more  tenderness,  did  George  address  her.  His  appeal 
had,  for  a  season,  its  desired  effect.  Evelina  rose  with 
him,  retired  with  him,  read  with  him.  She  took  charge 
of  the  keys,  dealt  out  the  stores  with  her  own  hand, 
visited  the  kitchen — in  short,  she  became  every  thing 
George  could  wish  or  expect  from  one  of  her  in 
experience.  Things  immediately  wore  a  new  as 
pect.  George  became  himself  again.  He  recom 
menced  his  studies  with  redoubled  assiduity.  The 
community  saw  and  delighted  in  the  change,  and  the 
bar  began  to  tremble  at  his  giant  strides  in  his  pro 
fession. — But  alas  !  his  bliss  was  doomed  to  a  short  du 
ration.  Though  Evelina  saw,  and  felt,  and  acknowl 
edged  the  advantages  and  blessings  of  her  new  course 
of  conduct,  she  had  to  pres9rve  it  by  a  struggle  against 
nature  ;  and  at  the  end  of  three  months,  nature  triumph 
ed  over  resolution,  and  she  relapsed  into  her  old  habits. 
— George  now  surrendered  himself  to  drink,  and  to  des 
pair,  and  died  the  drunkard's  death.  At  another  time, 
I  may  perhaps  give  the  melancholy  account  of  his  ruin 
in  detail ;  tracing  its  consequences  down  to  the  moment 
at  which  I  am  now  writing.  Should  this  time  never 
arrive,  let  the  fate  of  my  poor  lost  nephew,  be  a  warm 


118  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

ing  to  mothers,  against  bringing  up  their  daughters  to  be 
"  CHARMING  CREATURES." 

BALDWIN. 


THE   GANDER    PULLING. 

In  the  year  1798,  1  resided  in  the  City  of  Augusta, 
and  upon  visiting  the  Market-House,  one  morning  in 
that  year,  my  attention  was  called  to  the  following 
rotice,  stuck  upon  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  building  : 

"  advurtyse?nent." 

"  Thos  woo  wish  To  be  inform  heareof,  is  heareof 
"  tiotyfide  that  edwd.  Prator  will  giv  a  gander  pullin,  jis 
"  this  side  of  harisburg,  on  Satterday  of  thes  pressents 
"  munth  to  All  woo  mout  wish  to  partak  tharof." 

"  e  Prator,  thos  wishin  to  purtak 
"  will  cum  yearly,  as  the  pullin  will  begin  soon." 

"  e-  P-" 

If  I  am  asked,  why  "  jis  the  side  of  harisburg"  was 
selected  for  the  promised  feat,  instead  of  the  City 
of  Augusta?  I  answer  from  conjecture,  but  with 
some  confidence,  because,  the  ground  chosen,  was 
uoar  the  central  point,  between  four  rival  towns, 
the  citizens  of  ail  which  "  mout  wish  to  partak 
Vhar&f ;"  namely,  Augusta,  Springfield,  Harrisburg,  and 
Oampbeliton — Not  that  each  was  the  rival  of  all  the  oth 
ers  ;  but,  that  the  first  and  the  last  were  competitors,  and 
each  of  the  others  backed  the  pretensions  of  its  nearest 
neighbor.  Harrisburg  sided  with  Campbellton,  not  be- 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   tcC.  119 

cause  she  had  any  interest  in  seeing  the  business  of'  the 
tivo  States  centre  upon  the  bank  of  the  river,  nearly  op 
posite  to  her  ;  but  because,  like  the  "  Union  Democratic 
Republican  Party  of  Georgia,"  she  thought,  after  the 
adoption  of  the  Federal  Constitution,  that  the  several 
towns  of  the  confederacy  should  no  longer  be  "  separat 
ed"  by  the  distinction  of  local  party ;  but  that  laying 
down  all  former  prejudices  and  jealousies,  as  a  sacrifice 
on  the  altar  of  their  country,  they  should  become  united 
in  a  single  body,  for  the  maintenance  of  those  principles 
which  they  deemed  essential  to  the  public  welfare." 

Springfield,  on  the  other  hand,  espoused  the  State 
Rights'  creed.  She  admitted,  that  under  the  Federal 
compact,  she  ought  to  love  the  sister  States  very  much ; 
but  that  under  the  Social  Compact,  she  ought  to  love 
her  own  state  a  little  more  ;  and  she  thought  the  two 
compacts  perfectly  reconcilable  to  each  other.  Instead 
of  the  towns  of  the  several  States,  getting  into  single 
bodies,  to  preserve  the  public  welfare,  her  doctrine  was, 
that  they  should  be  kept  in  separate  bodies,  to  preserve 
the  private  welfare.  She  admitted  frankly,  that  living 
as  she  always  had  lived,  right  amidst  gullies,  vapours, 
fogs,  creeks,  and  lagoon's,  she  was  wholly  incapable  of 
comprehending  that  expansive  kind  of  benevolence, 
which  taught  her  to  love  people  whom  she  knew  noth 
ing  about,  as  much  as  her  next  door  neighbors  and 
friends. — Until  therefore,  she  should  learn  it  from  the 
practical  operation  of  the  Federal  Compact,  she  would 
stick  to  the  old-fashioned  Scotch  love,  which  she  under- 
stood  perfectly,  and  "  go  in"  forAugusta,  live  or  die,  hit 
or  miss,  right  or  wrong.  As  in  the  days  of  Mr.  Jeffer 
son,  tho  Springfield  doctrines  prevailed — Campbellton 
was  literally  nullified  ;  in  so  much,  that  ten  years  ago, 
there  was  not  a  house  left  to  mark  the  spot  where  once 
flourished  this  active,  busy  little  village.  Those  who 


120  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

are  curious  to  know  where  Springfield  stood,  at  the  time 
of  which  I  am  speaking,  have  only  to  take  their  position 
at  the  intersection  of  Broad  and  Marbury  Streets,  in  the 
city  of  Augusta,  and  they  will  be  in  the  very  heart  of 
old  Springfield.  Sixty  steps  West,  and  as  many  East 
of  this  position,  will  measure  the  whole  length  of  this 
Jeffersonian  Republican  village,  which  never  boasted  of 
more  than  four  dwelling-houses  ;  and  Broad-street,  mea 
sures  its  width,  if  we  exclude  kitchens  and  stables. 
And,  while  upon  this  subject,  since  it  has  been  predicted 
by  a  man,  for  whose  opinions  I  entertain  the  profoundest 
respect,*  (especially  since  the  prediction,)  that  my  wri 
tings  will  be  read,  with  increased  interest,  a  hundred 
years  to  come  ;  and  as  I  can  see  no  good  reason",  if  this 
be  true,  why  they  should  not  be  read  a  thousand  years 
hence,  with  more  interest ;  I  will  take  the  liberty  of 
dropping  a  word  here,  to  the  curious  reader,  of  the  year 
1933.  He  will  certainly  wish  to  know  the  site  of  Har- 
risburg,  (seeing  it  is  doomed,  at  no  distant  period,  to 
share  the  fate  of  Springfield,)  and  of  Campbellton. 

Supposing  then,  that  if  the  great  fire  in  Augusta,  on 
the  3d  of  April,  1829,  did  not  destroy  that  city,  nothing 
will ;  I  select  this  as  a  permanent  object.  " 

In  1798,  Campbell  street  was  the  western  verge  of 
Augusta,  a  limit  to  which  it  had  advanced  but  a  few 
years  before,  from  Jackson  street.  Thence  to  Spring 
field,  led  a  large  road, — now  built  up  on  either  side,  and 
forming  a  continuation  of  Broad-street — This  road  was 
cut  across  obliquely,  by  a  deep  gully,  the  bed  of  which 
was  an  almost  impassable  bog,  which  entered  the  road, 
about  one  hundred  yards  below  Collock  street,  on  the 
South,  and  left  it,  about  thirty  yards  below  Collock  street, 
on  the  North  side  of  now  Broad  street.  It  was  called 
Campbell's- Gully,  from  the  name  of  the  gentleman, 

*  The  Editor  of  the  "  Hickory  Nut." 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  121 

through  whose  possessions,  and  near  whose  dwelling,  it 
wound  its  way  to  the  river.  Following  the  direction  of 
Broad-street,  from  Springfield,  westward,  1347  yards, 
will  bring  you  to  Harrisburg  ;  which  had  nothing  to  boast 
of  over  Springfield,  but  a  Warehouse,  for  the  storage 
of  Tobacco,  then  the  staple  of  Georgia — Continue  the 
same  direction,  700  yards,  tben  face  to  your  right  hand, 
and  follow  your  nose  directly  across  Savannah  river, 
and  upon  ascending  the  opposite  bank,  you  will  be  in 
the  busiest  part  of  Campbellton,  in  1798.  Between  Har 
risburg  and  Springfield,  and  1143  yards  from  the  latter, 
there  runs  a  stream  which  may  be  perpetual.  At  the 
time  just  mentioned,  it  flowed  between  banks  twelve  or 
fourteen  feet  high,  and  was  then  called,  as  it  still  is, 
«  Hawk's  Gully."* 

Now,  Mr.  Prator,  like  the  most  successful  politician 
of  the  present  day,  was  on  all  sides,  in  a  doubtful  con 
test;  and  accordingly  he  laid  off  his  gander-pulling 
ground,  on  the  nearest  suitable  unappropriated  spot,  to 
the  centre  point  between  Springfield  and  Harrisburg. 
This  was  between  Harrisburg  and  Hawk's  Gully,  to 
the  south  of  the  road,  and  embraced  part  "of  the  road, 
but  within  100  yards  of  Harrisburg. 

When  "  Satlerday  of'lhes  presents  munth"  rolled 
round,  I  determined  to  go  to  the  gander-pulling.  When 
I  reached  the  spot,  a  considerable  number  of  persons  of 
different  ages,  sexes,  sizes,  and  complexions,  had  col 
lected  from  the  rival  towns,  and  the  country  around. 
But  few  females  were  there,  however  ;  and  those  few, 
were  from  the  lowest  walks  of  life. 

A  circular  path  of  about  forty  yards  diameter,  had 
already  been  laid  out ;  over  which,  from  two  posts  about 

*  It  took  its  name  from  an  old  man,  by  the  name  of  Hawk,  who  lived 
in  a  log  hut,  on  a  small  knoll,  on  the  Eastern  side  of  the  gully,  and 
about  100  yards  South  of  the  Harrisburg  road. 


122  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

ten  feet  apart,  stretched  a  rope,  the  middle  of  which  was 
directly  over  the  path.  The  rope  hung  loosely,  so  as 
to  allow  it,  with  the  weight  of  a  gander  attached  to  it, 
to  vibrate  in  an  arc  of  four  or  five  feet  span,  and  so  as 
to  bring  the  breast  of  the  gander,  within  barely  easy 
reach  of  a  man  of  middle  stature,  upon  a  horse  of  com 
mon  size. 

A  hat  was  now  handed  to  such  as  wished  to  enter  the 
list ;  and  they  threw  into  it  twenty-five  cents  each  ;  this 
sum  was  the  victor's  prize. 

The  devoted  gander  was  now  produced ;  and  Mr. 
Prator,  having  first  tied  his  feet  together,  with  a  strong 
cord,  proceeded  to  the  neck-greasing.  Abhorrent  as  it 
may  be,  to  all  who  respect  the  tenderer  relations  of 
life,  Mrs.  Prator  had  actually  prepared  a  gourd  of  goose- 
grease  for  this  very  purpose.  For  myself,  when  I  saw. 
Ned  dip  his  hands  into  the  grease,  and  commence  strok 
ing  down  the  feathers,  from  breast  to  head,  my  thoughts 
took  a  melancholy  turn — They  dwelt  in  sadness  upon 
the  many  conjugal  felicities  which  had  probably  been 
shared  between  the  greasess  and  the  greasee. — 1  could 
see  him  as  he  stood  by  her  side,  through  many  a  chilly 
day  and  cheerless  night,  when  she  was  warming  into 
life,  the  offspring  of  their  mutual  loves,  and  repelled, 
with  chivalrous  spirit,  every  invasion  of  the  consecrated 
spot,  which  she  had  selected  for  her  incubation.  I  could 
see  him  moving  with  patriarchal  dignity,  by  the  side  of 
his  loved  one,  at  the  head  of  a  smiling,  prattling  group, 
the  rich  reward  of  their  mutual  care,  to  the  luxuries  of 
the  meadow,  or  to  the  recreations  of  the  pool.  And  now 
alas !  an  extract  from  the  smoking  sacrifice  of  his  bosom 
friend,  was  disecrated  to  the  unholy  purpose  of  making 
his  neck  "  a  fit  object"  for  Cruelty  to  reach  "  her  quick, 
unerring  fingers  at."  Ye  friends  of  the  sacred  tie  ! 
judge  what  were  my  feelings,  when  in  the  midst  of  these 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  123 

reflections,  the  voice  of  James  Prator  thundered  on  mine 
ear,  "  Burn  his  old  dodging  soul ;  brother  Ned  !  grease 
his  neck  till  a  fly  can't  light  on  it !" 

Ned  having  fulfilled  his  brother  Jim's  request  as  well 
as  he  could,  attached  the  victim  of  his  cruelty  to  the  rope, 
directly  over  the  path.  On  each  side  of  the  gander, 
was  stationed  a  man,  whose  office  it  was,  to  lash  forward 
any  horse  which  might  linger  there  for  a  moment ;  for 
by  the  rules  of  the  ring,  all  pulling  was  to  be  done  at  a 
brisk  canter. 

The  word  was  now  given  for  the  competitors  to  -mount 
and  take  their  places  on  the  ring.  Eight  appeared — 
Tall  Zubley  Zin,  mounted  upon  Sally  Spitfire ;  Arch 
Odum,  mounted  on  Bull-and-Ingons,  (onions.)  Nathan 
Perdew,  on  Hell-cat ;  James  Dickson,  on  Nigger  ;  David 
Williams,  on  Gridiron  ;  Fat  John  Fulger,  on  Slouch  ; 
Gorham  Bostwick,  on  Gimblet ;  and  Turner  Hammond, 
on  Possum. 

"  Come,  gentlemen"  said  commandant  Prator,  "  fall 
in !  All  of  you  git  behind  one  another,  sort  o'  in  a 
row." 

All  came  into  the  track  very  kindly,  but  Sally  Spit 
fire,  and  Gridiron.  The  former,  as  soon  as  she  saw  a 
general  movement  of  horses,  took  it  for  granted,  there 
was  mischief  brewing,  and  because  she  could  not  tell 
where  it  lay,  she  concluded  it  lay  every  where,  and 
therefore  took  fright  at  every  thing. 

Gridiron  was  a  grave  horse ;  but  a  suspicious  eye 
which  he  cast  to  the  right  and  left,  wherever  he  moved, 
showed,  that  "  he  was  wide  awake,"  and  that  «  nobody 
better  not  go  fooling  with  him,"  as  his  owner  sometimes 
used  to  say.  He  took  a  sober,  but  rather  intense  view  of 
things ;  in  so  much,  that  in  his  contemplations,  he  passed 
over  the  track  three  times,  before  he  could  be  prevailed 
upon  to  stop  in  it.  He  stopt,  at  last,  however,  and  when 


124  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

he  was  made  to  understand,  that  this  was  all  that  was 
expected  of  him  for  the  present,  he  surrendered  his  sus 
picions  at  once,  with  a  countenance  which  seemed  plainly 
to  say,  "  Oh,  if  this  is  all  you  want,  I've  no  objection 
to  it." 

It  was  long  before  Miss  Spitfire  could  be  prevailed 
upon  to  do  the  like. 

"  Get  another  horse ;  Zube,"  said  one,  "  Sail  will 
never  do  for  a  gander  pullin." 

"  I  won't/'  said  Zube.  If  she  won't  do,  I'll  make  her 
do.  I  want  a  nag  that  goes  off  with  a  spring  ;  so  that 
when  I  get  a  hold,  she'll  cut  the  neck  in  two  like  a  steel- 
trap." 

At  length  Sally  was  rather  flung  than  coaxed,  into  the 
track,  directly  ahead  of  Gridiron. 

"  Now  gentlemen,"  said  the  Master  of  Ceremonies, 
"  no  man's  to  make  a  grab  till  all's  been  once  round — 
and  when  the  first  man  are  got  round,  then  the  whole 
twist  and  tucking  of  you  grab  away,  as  you  come  under, 
("  Look  here  Jim  Fulger !  you  better  not  stand  too  close 
to  that  gander,  I  tell  you,")  one  after  another.  "  Now 
blaze  away!"  (the  command  for  an  onset  of  every 
kind,  with  people  of  this  order.) 

Off  they  went,  Miss  Sally  delighted ;  for  she  now 
thought  the  whole  parade  would  end  in  nothing  more  nor 
less,  than  her  favorite  amusement,  a  race.  But  Gridi 
ron's  visage  pronounced  this,  the  most  nonsensical  busi 
ness,  that  ever  a  horse  of  sense  was  engaged  in  since  the 
world  began. 

For  the  first  three  rounds,  Zubly  was  wholly  occu 
pied  in  restraining  Sally  to  her  place,  but  he  lost  noth 
ing  by  this,  for  the  gander  had  escaped  unhurt.  On 
completing  his  third  round,  Zube  reached  forth  his  long 
arm,  grabbed  the  gander  by  the  neck,  with  a  firmness, 
which  seemed  likely  to  defy  goose-grease,  and  at  the 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C, 


125 


same  instant,  he  involuntarily  gave  Sally  a  sudden 
check.  She  raised  her  head,  which  before  had  been 
kept  nearly  touching  her  leader's  hocks,  and  for  the 
first  time,  saw  the  gander  in  the  act  of  descending  upon 
her ;  at  the  same  moment  she  received  two  pealing 
lashes  from  the  whippers.  The  way  she  now  broke, 
for  Springfield,  "  is  nothing  to  nobody."  As  Zube  dash 
ed  down  the  road,  the  whole  Circus  raised  a  whoop  after 
him.  This  started  about  twenty  dogs,  hounds,  curs  and 
pointers,  in  full  chase  of  him,  (for  no  man  moved  with 
out  his  dog  in  those  days.) — The  dogs  alarmed  some 
belled  cattle,  which  were  grazing  on  Zube's  path,  just 
as  he  reached  them  ;  these  joined  him,  with  tails  up,  and 
a  tremendous  rattling.  Just  beyond  these  went  three 
tobacco- rollers,  at  distances  of  fifty  and  a  hundred  yards 
apart  ;  each  of  whom  gave  Zube  a  terrific  whoop, 
scream,  or  yell,  as  he  passed. 

He  went  in  and  out  of  Hawk's  Gully,  like  a  trapball, 
and  was  in  Springfield,  "  in  less  than  no  time."  Here 
he  was  encouraged  onward,  by  a  new  recruit  of  dogs  ; 
but  they  gave  up  the  chase  as  hopeless,  before  they 
cleared  the  village.  Just  beyond  Springfield,  what 
should  Sally  encounter,  but  a  flock  of  geese  !  the  tribe 
to  which  she  owed  all  her  misfortunes.  She  stopt  sud 
denly,  and  Zube  went  over  her  head  with  the  last  ac 
quired  velocity.  He  was  up  in  a  moment,  and  the  ac 
tivity  with  which  he  pursued  Sally,  satisfied  every  spec 
tator  that  he  was  unhurt. 

Gridiron,  who  had  witnessed  Miss  Sally's  treatment 
with  astonishment  and  indignation,  resolved  not  to  pass 
between  the  posts,  until  the  whole  matter  should  be  ex 
plained  to  his  satisfaction.  He  therefore  stopt  short, 
and  by  very  intelligible  looks,  demanded  of  the  whip 
pers,  whether  if  he  passed  between  them,  he  was  to  be 
treated  as  Miss  Spitfire  had  been  ?  The  whippers  gave 
k 


126  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C« 

him  no  satisfaction,  and  his  rider  signified  by  reiterated 
thumps  of  the  heel,  that  he  should  go  through,  whether 
he  woald  or  not.  Of  these,  however,  Gridiron  seemed 
to  know  nothing.  In  tie  midst  of  the  conference,  Gridi- 
ron's  eye  lit  upon  the  oscilating  gander,  and  every  mo 
ment's  survey  of  it  begat  in  him  a  growing  interest,  as 
his  slowly  rising  head,  suppressed  breath,  arid  projected 
ears,  plainly  evince J.  After  ;.  short  examination,  he 
heaved  a  sigh,  and  looked  behind  him,  to  see  if  the  way 
was  clear.  It  was  plaia  tiat  his  mind  was  now  made 
up ;  bat  to  satisfy  the  world  that  he  wouid  do  nothing 
rashly,  he  took  another  view,  and  then  wheeled  and  went 
fjr  Harrisburg,  as  if  he  had  set  in  for  a  year's  running. 
Nobody  whooped  at  Gridiron,  for  all  saw  that  his  run- 
ning  was  purely  the  result  of  philosophic  deduction. 
Tae  reader  will  not  suppose  all  this  consumed  htdf  the 
time  which  has  been  co  sumed  in  telling  it,  though  it 
migl-t  have  been  so,  without  interruptiiig  the  amuse* 
meLt ;  for  Miss  Spitfire's  flight  had  completely  suspen 
ded  it  for  a  time. 

The  remaining  competitors  now  went  on  with  the 
sport.  A  few  rounds  showed  plainly,  that  Odum  or 
Bostwick  would  be  the  victor ;  but  which,  no  one  could 
tell.  Whenever  either  of  them  came  round,  the  gan 
der's  neck  was  sure  of  a  severe  wrench.  Many  a  half 
pint  of  Jamaica  was  staked  upon  them,  besides  other 
things.  The  poor  gander  withstood  many  a  strong  pull 
before  his  wailings  ceased.  At  length,  however,  they 
were  hushed  by  Odum.  Then  came  Bostwick,  and 
broke  the  neck.  The  next  grasp  of  Odum,  it  was 
thought,  would  bear  away  the  head  ;  but  it  did  not — 
Then  Bostwick  was  sure  of  it — but  he  missed  it.  Now 
Odum  must  surely  have  it — All  is  interest  and  anima 
tion — the  horses  sweep  round  with  redoubled  speed — 
every  eye  is  upon  Odum — his  backers  smiling,  Bost- 


&EORGIA  SCENES,  &C.  12 

wick's  trembling — To  the  rope  he  comes — lifts  his  hand 
— when,  lo  !  Fat  John  Fulger  had  borne  it  away  the 
second  before.  All  were  astonished — all  disappointed — 
and  some  were  vexed  a  little  ;  for  it  was  now  clear,  that 
"  if  it  had  n't  o'  been  for  his  great  fat  greasy  paw,"  to 
use  their  own  language,  OJum  would  have  gained  the 
victory.  Others  cursed,  "  that  long-legged  Zaba  Ztn, 
who  was  so  high,  he  did'  n't  know  when  his  feet  were 
cold,  for  bringing  such  a  nag  as  Sal'  Spitfire,  to  a  gander 
pullen,  for  if  he'd  o'been  in  his  place,  it  would  o'  flung 
Bostwick  right  where  that  gourd  o'  hog's  lard,  (Fulger) 
was. " 

Fulger's  conduct  was  little  calculated  to  reconcile 
them  to  their  disappointment. 

"  Come  here  Neddy  Prater,"  said  he,  with  a  trium 
phant  smile,  "  let  your  Uncle  Johnny  put  his  potato 
stealer,  (hand,)  into  that  hat,  and  tickle  the  chins  of  them 
are  shiners  a  little !  Oh  you  little  shining  sons  oj 
bitches !  walk  into  your  Mas'  Johny's  pocket,  and  gingle, 
so  as  Arch  Odum  and  Gory  Bostwick  may  hear  you  !" 
You  hear  'em  Gory  ?  Boys,  don't  pull  with  men  any 
more.  I've  jist  got  my  hand  in  ;  I  wish  I  had  a  pond 
full  o'  ganders  here  now,  jist  to  show  how  I  could  make 
their  heads  fly — Bet  all  I've  won,  you  may  hang  three 
upon  that  rope,  and  I'll  set  Slouch  at  full  speed,  and 
take  off  the  heads  of  all  three,  the  first  grab ;  two  with 
my  hands,  and  one  with  my  teeth." 

Thus  he  went  on,  but  really,  there  was  no  boasting 
in  all  this ;  it  was  all  fun,  for  John  knew,  and  all  were 
convinced  that  he  knew,  that  his  success,  was  entirely 
the  result  of  accident.  John  was  really  "  a  good  natur- 
ed  fellow,"  and  his  cavorting  had  an  effect  directly  op. 
posite  to  that  which  the  reader  would  suppose  it  had — 
it  reconciled  all  to  their  disappointment,  save  one.  I 
except  little  Billy  Mixen,  of  Spirit  Creek  ;  who  had 


128  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

staked  the  net  proceeds  of  six  quarts  of  buckle-berries* 
upon  Odom  ;  which  he  had  been  long  keeping  for  a  safe 
bet.  He  could  not  be  reconciled,  until  he  fretted  him- 
self  into  a  pretty  little  pfney- woods  fight,  in  which  he 
got  whipt ;  and  then  he  went  home  perfectly  satisfied. 
Fulger  spent  all  his  winnings  with  Prater  in  treats  to  the 
company — made  most  of  them  drunk,  and  thereby  pro 
duced  four  Georgia  rotations  ;f  after  which  all  parted 
good  friends. 

HALL. 


THE 

Being  on  a  visit  to  the  city  of  ,  about  ten  years 

ago,  my  old  friend,  Jack  De  Bathle  gave  me  an  invitation 
to  a  ball,  of  which  he  was  one  of  the  managers.  Jack 
had  been  the  companion  of  my  childhood,  my  boyhood, 
and  my  early  manhood  ;  and  through  many  a  merry 
dance  had  we  hopt,  and  laughed,  and  tumbled  down 
together,  in  the  morning  of  life.  Dancing  was  really, 
in  those  days,  a  merry  making  business.  Except  the 
minuet,  which  was  introduced  only  to  teach  us  the  gra 
ces,  and  the  congo,  which  was  only  to  chase  away  the 
solemnities  of  the  minuet,  it  was  all  a  jovial,  heart-stir 
ring,  foot-stirring  amusement.  We  had  none  of  your 

*  I  give  them  their  Georgia  name.  I  should  hardly  be  understood,  if 
I  called  them  whortleberries. 

1 1  borrowed  this  term  from  Jim  Inman,  at  the  time.—"  Why,  Jim, ^ 
said  I  to  him,  just  as  he  rose  from  a  fight,  "  what  have  you  been  doing?" 
"  Oh,"  said  he,  **  nothing  but  taking  a  little  rotation  with  Bob  McMa- 
nus." 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  129 

mathematical  cotillions  ;  none  of  your  immodest  waltzes ; 
none  of  your  detestable,  disgusting  gallapades.  The 
waltz  would  have  crimsoned  the  cheek  of  every  young 
lady  who  attended  a  ball  in  my  day  ;  and  had  the  galla- 
pade  been  commenced  in  the  ball  room,  it  would  have 
been  ended  in  the  street.  I  am  happy  to  say  that  the 
waltz  has  met  with  bat  very  little  encouragement  in 
Georgia  as  yet — the  gallapade  with  none.  Ye  fair  of 
my  native  land — Ye  daughters  of  a  modest  race  !  blush 
them  away  from  the  soil,  which  your  mothers  honored 
by  t'leir  example,  and  consecrated  with  their  ashes. 
Bjrn  to  W3,Ti n's  loftiest  destinies,  it  ill  becomes  you  to 
stoop  from  your  high  estate,  to  ape  the  indecencies  of 
Europe's  slaves.  It  is  yours  to  command — not  to  obey. 
Let  vice  approach  you  in  what  form  she  may — as  the 
handmaid  of  wit  and  talents,  the  mistress  of  courts,  or 
the  queen  of  fashion,  fail  not  to  meet  her,  with  the  frown 
of  indignant  virtue,  and  the  flush  of  offended  modesty. 
Tnere  is  a  majesty  in  these,  which  has  ever  commanded 
her  homage — There  is  a  loveliness  in  these,  which  will 
ever  command  the  admiration  of  the  world.  The  inter 
est  which  1  foel,  in  the  character  of  the  fair  daughters  of 
America,  is  my  apology  for  this  sober  digression. 

Though  DeBathle  is  but  two  months  younger  than  I 
am,  he  still  dances  occasionally  ;  and  to  this  circumstance 
in  part,  b  Jt  more  particularly  to  the  circumstance  of  his 
being  a  married  man,  is  to  ba  ascribed  his  appointment, 
of  manager  ;  the  custom  now  being,  to  have  one  third, 
or  one  half  the  managers,  married  men.  This  would 
ba  a  great  improvement  on  the  management  of  balls  in 
olden  time,  could  the  married  man  only  manage  to  keep 
out  of  tie  card-room.  Would  they  take  the  direction 
of  the  amusement  into  their  hands,  their  junior  col- 
leagues  wojIJ  then  have  an  opportunity  of  sharing  the 
pleasures  of  the  evening,  a  privilege  which  they  seldom 
k2 


130  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

enjoy,  as  things  are  now  conducted  :  However,  married 
men  are  not  appointed  with  the  expectation  that  they 
will  perform  the  duties  of  the  office  ;  but  to  quiet  the 
scruples  of  some  half  dozen  or  more  "  charming  crea 
tures"  who,  though  they  never  fail  to  attend  a  ball,  will 
not  condescend  to  do  so,  until  they  are  perfectly  satisfied 
it  is  to  be  conducted  with  the  utmost  gravity,  dignity, 
decorum  arid  propriety.  For  these  assurances  they  look 
first  to  "the  face  of  the  paper,"  (the  ball-ticket,)  and  if 
they  do  not  find  on  it  a  goodly  number  of  responsible 
names,  (such  as  by  reasonable  presumption,  are  well 
broke  to  petticoat  government,)  they  protest  against  it 
— tell  a  hundred  amiable  little  fibs,  to  conceal  the  cause 
of  their  opposition — torture  two  or  three  beaux  half  to 
death  with  suspense,  and  finally  conclude  to  go  "  just  to 
keep  from  giving  offence."  But  if  the  endorsers  be 
"  potent,  grave  and  reverend  seniors,"  schooled  as  afore 
said  ;  why  then,  one  difficulty  at  least  is  removed  ;  for 
though  it  is  well  known,  that  these  are  "  endorsers  with 
out  recourse  in  the  first  instance,"  it  is  equally  well 
known,  that  they  may  be  ultimately  made  liable  ;  for  if 
the  juniors  fail  to  fulfil  their  engagements,  a  lady  has  noth 
ing  to  do,  but  to  walk  into  the  card  room,  take  a  senior 
by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  lead  him  into  the  ball  room, 
present  her  ticket  with  his  name  upon  it,  in  the  presence 
of  the  witnesses  there  assembled,  and  she  is  sure  of 
ample  satisfaction. 

When  De  Bathle  and  I  reached  the  ball  room,  a  large 
number  of  gentlemen  had  already  assembled.  They 
all  seemed  cheerful  and  happy.  Some  walked  in  cou 
ples  up  and  down  the  ball  room,  and  talked  with  great 
volubility ;  but  none  of  them  understood  a  word  that 
himself  or  his  companion  said. 

«  Ah,  sir  ;  how  do  you  know  that  ?" 


GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C.  131 

Because  the  speakers  showed  plainly  by  their  looks 
and  actions,  that  their  thoughts  were  running  upon  their 
own  personal  appearance,  and  upon  the  figure  they 
would  cut,  before  the  ladies,  when  they  should  arrive ; 
and  not  upon  the  subject  of  the  discourse.  And  further 
more,  their  conversation  was  like  that  of  one  talking  in 
his  sleep, — without  order,  sense,  or  connexion.  The 
hearer  always  made  the  speaker  repeat  in  sentences  and 
half  sentences  ;  often  interrupting  him  with  "  what  ?" 
before  he  had  proceeded  three  words  in  a  remark  ;  and 
then  laughed  affectedly,  as  though  he  saw  in  the  sense 
less  unfinished  sentence,  a  most  excellent  joke.  Then 
would  come  his  reply,  which  could  not  be  forced  into 
connexion  with  a  word  that  he  had  heard  ;  and  in  the 
course  of  which,  he  was  treated  with  precisely  the  ci 
vility  which  he  had  received.  And  yet  they  kept  up 
the  conversation  with  lively  interest,  as  long  as  I  listened 
to  them. 

Others  employed  themselves  in  commenting,  good- 
humoredly,  upon  each  other's  dresses,  and  figure  ;  while 
some  took  steps — awkwardly. 

In  the  mean  time  the  three  junior  managers  mej  and 
agreed  upon  the  parts  which  they  were  to  perform. 
Herein  I  thought  they  were  unfortunate.  To  Mr.  Flirt, 
a  bustling,  fidgety,  restless  little  man,  about  five  feet 
two  and  a  half  inches  high,  was  assigned  the  compara 
tively  easy  task  of  making  out  and  distributing  the  num 
bers.  Mr.  Crouch,  a  good  humored,  sensible,  but  rather 
unpolished  gentleman,  undertook  to  attend  the  carriages, 
and  to  transport  their  precious  treasures  to  the  ball-room, 
where  Mr.  Dupree  was  to  receive  them,  and  see  to  their 
safe  keeping,  until  the  dancing  commenced.  The  parts 
of  the  married  men,  up  to  the  opening  of  the  ball,  was 
settled  by  common  law.  They  were  to  keep  a  sharp 
look  out,  lend  a  helping  hand  in  case  of  emergency, 


132  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

drink  plenty  of  wine,  see  that  other  gentlemen,  particu 
larly  strangers,  did  the  same  ;  and  finally,  to  give  any 
gentleman,  who  might  have  come  to  the  ball,  encumbered 
with  a  little  loose  change,  an  opportunity  of  relieving 
himself. 

Things  were  thus  arranged,  Crouch  standing  with  a 
group  of  gentlemen,  of  which  I  was  one,  in  the  entry 
leading  to  the  ball  room  ;  when  Mr.  Flirt  broke  upon 
us  as  if  the  whole  town  was  on  fire,  and  all  the  ******* 
had  risen,  with  "Good  God,  Crouch!  There's  Mrs. 
Mushy's  carriage  at  the  door,  full  of  ladies,  and  not  a 
manager  thereto  recive  them  !  I'll  swear  it  is  too  bad  !" 
« Horrible  !"  said  Crouch  ;  and  away  he  went.  But 
Mrs.  Mus'.iy,  with  MissFeedle  and  Dyedle,  had  reached 
the  foot  of  the  stairs  unattended,  before  Crouch  or  even 
Flirt,  who  was  considerably  in  advance  of  him,  met 
them.  Mrs.  Mushy,  who  was  a  lady  of  very  full  habit, 
looked  huffishly  as  Flirt  took  her  hand,  and  Miss  Feedle, 
and  Miss  Deedle  blushed  sarcastically  ;  Flirt  made  a 
hundred  apologies,  and  Crouch  looked  first  at  Mrs. 
Mushy,  then  at  Flirt,  and  tittered.  "  Wnat  a  lovely 
figure  Mrs.  Mushy  is!"  said  he,  as  he  turned  off  from 
delivering  his  charge  to  Dupree.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Crouch," 
said  Flirt, "  if  you  begin  making  your  fun  of  the  ladies  a'- 
ready,  we'd  botter  break  up  the  ball  at  once.  By  heaven, 
it's  a  shame.  '  "  Upon  my  honor,  Mr.  Flirt,"  said 
Crouch,  "  I  think  she's  beautiful.  I  always  liked  a  light 
and  airy  figure  ;  particularly  for  a  ball  room."  By 
this  time  Dapree  had  joined  us.  Fliit  left  us,  obviously 
in  a  pet ;  but  we  hardly  missed  him,  before  back  he  rush 
ed  from  the  ball  room,  exclaiming,  "  Why,  gracious  hea 
vens,  Dupree !  there  are  those  t'iree  ladies  sitting  in  the 
ball  room,  and  not  a  gentleman  in  the  room  to  entertain 
thetn.  Do  go  and  introduce  some  of  the  gentlemen  to 
them,  if  you  please."  "  Flugens  !"  said  Dupree,  "  what 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  133 

an  oversight !"  and  off  he  went  for  entertainers.  After 
several  ineffectual  attempts,  he  at  length  prevailed  on  Mr. 
Noozle  and  Mr.  Boozle  to  be  made  acquainted  with  the 
ladies. 

Mr.  N.  seated  himselfto  the  right  of  Mr.  F.,  and  Mr. 
B.  to  the  left  of  Miss  D.  ;  Mrs.  M.  occupying  a  seat  be 
tween  the  girls,  and  looking,  for  all  the  world,  as  if  she 
thought — "  Well,  this  is  the  last  ball  1*11  ever  attend,  un 
less  it's  a  little  better  managed."  But  the  young  ladies 
looked  like  a  May  morning,  as  soon  as  the  gentlemen 
approached.  After  a  pause  of  two  minutes, 

"  It's  a  very  pleasant  evening,"  said  Mr.  Noozle  to 
Miss  Feedle. 

"  Delightful,"  said  Miss  Feedle  to  Mr.  Noozle. 

"  It's  a  delightful  evening,"  said  Miss  Deedle  to  Mr. 
Boozle. 

"  Very  pleasant,"  said  Mr.  Boozle  to  Miss  Deedle. 

"  I  thought  there  were  some  married  managers  of  the 
ball,"  said  Mrs.  Mushy,  emphatically.  Here  ensued  a 
long  pause. 

"  Are  you  fond  of  dancing  ?"  said  Mr.  Noozle. 

"  Ah  !  what's  that  you  say,  Noozle  ?" — said  Boozle ; 
"  you  are  not  fond  of  dancing  !  Come,  come,  that'll 
never  do.  You  tip  the  pigeon- wing  too  well  for  that." 

"  You  quite  misapprehend  me,  sir,"  returned  Mr.  Noo 
zle.  "  Mine  was  not  a  declaration,  touching  in  the  re 
motest  degree  my  personal  predilections  or  antipathies, 
but  a  simple  interrogatory  to  Miss  Feedle.  No  sir ; 
though  I  cannot  lay  claim  to  the  proficiency  of  Noverre, 
in  the  saltant  art,  I  am,  nevertheless,  extravagantly  fond 
of  dancing  ;  too  much  so,  1  fear,  for  one  who  has  but  just 
commenced  the  veginti  lucubrationes  annoru?n,  as  that 
inimitable,  and  fascinating  expositor  of  the  elements  of 
British  jurisprudence,  Sir  William  Blackstone,  ob- 


134  GEORGIA   SCENES,   JcC. 

serves.      To    reach  these  high   attainments  in  foren. 
sic" 

Here  the  young  gentlemen  were  forced  to  resign 
their  seats  to  a  number  of  ladies,  who  now  entered  the 
ball  room. 

"What  an  intelligent  young  gentleman!"  said  Miss 
Feedle — "  I  declare  I  must  set  my  oap  for  him." 

"  1  think  the  other  much  the  most  interesting  of  the 
two,"  said  Miss  Deedle.  "  He's  too  affected,  and  too 
fond  of  showing  off  his  learning.  What  did  he  call 
that  "  inimitable  expositor  ?"  Jinny  Crashonis. 

The  seats  were  soon  filled  with  ladies  ;  almost  all  of 
whom,  (except  Mrs.  Mushy,)  entered  the  room  in  the 
same  style,  which  seemed  to  have  been  strictly  copied  from 
the  movement  of  the  kildee.  They  took  their  seats,  with 
precisely  the  motion  with  which  the  school-girls,  in  my 
younger  days,  used  to  make  «  cheeses"  as  they  called 
them,  with  their  frocks. 

The  musicians  were  all  blacks,  but  neatly  dressed. 
The  band  consisted  of  three  performc  rs  on  the  violin, 
one  on  the  clarionet,  one  on  the  tamborine,  and  one  on 
the  triangle. 

The  ladies  ceased  coming,  and  nothing  seemed  now 
wanting  to  begin  the  amusement,  but  the  distribution  of 
the  numbers  ;  but  Mr.  Flirt  was  running  up  and  down 
stairs  every  minute  after — no  one  knew  what ;  and 
with  great  anxiety,  no  one  knew  why.  He  would  enter 
the  room,  look  the  ladies  all  over,  then  down  he  would 
go;  then  return  and  go  through  the  same  evolutions. 
The  band  struck  up  a  spirit-stirring  tune,  in  which  the 
tamborine  player  distinguished  himself.  For  dignified 
complaisancy  of  countenance,  under  his  own  music,  he 
rivalled  Mr.  Jenkins ;  and  he  performed  the  rattle-snake 
note  with  his  middle  finger,  in  a  style  which  threw  Miss 
Crump  entirely  in  the  shade.  The  band  ceased,  and 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  135 

the  enquiry  became  general,  «»  Why  doesn't  the  drawing 
begin  f '  but  Mr.  Flirt  still  kept  up  his  anxious  move 
ments. 

"  In  the  name  of  sense,  Flirt,"  said  Crouch,  impatient- 
ly,  as  the  little  man  was  taking  a  third  survey  of  the 
ladies,  "  what  are  you  bobbing  up  and  down  stairs  for  ? 
Wiiy  don't  you  distribute  the  tickets?" 

"  Oil,"  said  Flirt,  "  it's  early  yet.  Let's  wait  for 
Miss  Gilt  and  Miss  Rino.  I  know  they're  coming,  for 
Mr.  Posey,  and  Mr.  Tulip  told  me  they  saw  them 
dressed,  and  their  carriages  at  the  door,  an  hour  ago." 
"  Blast  Miss  Gilt  and  Miss  Rino !"  returned  Crouch. 
"  Is  the  whole  company  to  be  kept  waiting  for  them  ? 
Now,  sir,  if  the  tickets  are  not  handed  round  in  three 
minutes,  I'll  announce  to  the  company  that  Mr.  Flirt 
Will  permit  no  dancing  until  Miss  Gilt  and  Miss  Rino, 
shall  tu'nk  proper  to  honor  us  with  their  presance." 

"  Oh,  zounds !"  said  Flirt,  "  I'm  not  waiting  for  them. 
I  thought  it  was  too  early  to  begin  the  draw- 
ing.  It's  quite  unfashionable  in  New.  York  to  commence 
drawing  before  9  o'clock."  (Miss  R.'s  father  was  com- 
puted  at  a  cool  hundred  and  fifty,  and  Miss  G.'s  at  a 
round  hundred  thousand.) 

In  a  few  minutes  the  tickets  were  distributed,  and  Mr. 
Flirt  proceeded  to  call,  «  No.  1 — First  Cotillon,"  with 
most  imposing  majesty.  Then  numbers  2,  3  and  4,  of 
the  same  ;  then  No.  1,  of  the  second,  and  so  on. 

Five  sets  of  cotillons  could  occupy  the  floor  at  a  time  ; 
and  Flirt  had  just  called  No.  2,  of  the  fifth,  when  Miss 
Rino  entered  the  room,  and  immediately  afterwards  Miss 
Gilt.  Flirt  had  put  two  supernumerary  tickets  in  the 
hat,  in  anticipation  of  their  coming  ;  and  forgetting  every 
thing  else,  he  suspended  the  calling,  and  rushed  to  de 
liver  them,  as  soon  as  the  ladies  made  their  appear- 
ance. 


136  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

He  went  to  Miss  Rino  first^  as  she  entered  first ;  but 
she  was  obviously  piqued  at  seeing  the  sets  on  the  floor 
before  her  arrival.  She  refused  to  take  a  number  ;  de 
claring,  (very  sweetly,)  that  she  left  home  with  no  idea  of 
dancing.  Flirt  insisted,  earnestly  and  prettily,  upon 
her  taking  a  number  ;  but  she  hesitated,  looked  in  the 
hat,  then  looked  at  Flirt  bevvitchingly,  and  declared  she 
did  not  wish  to  dance. 

In  the  mean  time  Miss  Gilt  began  to  feel  herself  sligh 
ted,  and  she  said,  in  a  pretty  audible  tone,  "  as  for  her 
part,  she  would  like  very  well  to  draw  a  number  if  she 
could  be  permitted  to  do  so."  Several  gentlemen  who 
had  gathered  around  her,  hastened  to  Flirt  to  remind 
him  of  the  indignity  which  he  was  offering  to  Miss  Gilt  ; 
but  before  they  reached  him,  Miss  Rino  drew  No.  3,  of 
the  fifth  cotillon  from  the  hat. 

Unfortunately,  Crouch's  patience  had  worn  out,  just 
before  Miss  R.  made  up  her  mind  to  take  a  ticket ;  and 
he  took  the  office  which  Flirt  had  abdicated.  He  called 
No.  3  twice  ;  but  the  call  was  not  responded  to.  He 
then  called  No.  4,  when  Miss  Jones  appeared,  and  took 
her  place.  He  next  called  No.  1,  of  the  sixth  set,  when 
a  lady  appeared,  which  completed  the  cotillon.  The  last 
lady  had  but  just  taken  her  place,  when  Miss  Rino,  led 
on  by  Mr.  Noozle,  advanced,  and  announced  that  her's 
was  No.  3,  of  the  fifth  set.  Miss  Jones  was  instinctively 
retiring  from  the  august  presence  of  Miss  Rino,  when 
she  was  stopped  by  Crouch,  with  "  Keep  your  place, 
Miss  Jones,  I  think  you  are  entitled  to  it." 

"  Is'nt  this  No  3,  of  the  fifth  cotillon  ?""  said  Miss  Rino, 
holding  out  her  ticket  to  Mr.  Crouch. 

"  Yes,  Miss,"  said  Crouch,  "  but  I  think  it  has  forfeited 
its  place.  Indeed,  I  do  not  think  it  was  even  dra.wn, 
when  Miss  Jones  took  her  place." 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C,  137 

This  drew  from  Miss  Rino  the  expression  of  counte 
nance,  which  immediately  precedes  a  sneeze. 

"  Upon  every  principle  of  equity  and  justice,"  said 
Mr.  Boozle,  "  Miss  Rino  is  entitled  to" — 

"  Music  !"  said  Crouch. 

"  Hands  round  !"  said  the  fiddler ;  and  the  whole  band 
struck  into  something  like  "  The  Dead  March." 

"  This  matter  shall  not  end  here,"  said  Noozle,  as  he 
led  Miss  Rino  back  to  her  seat. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Noozle,"  returned  Miss  Rino,  "  don't  think 
any  thing  of  it.  I  declare  I  had  not  the  least  wish  in 
the  world  to  dance.  Surely  you  would  not  object  to 
any  thing  the  polite  and  accomplished  Mr.  Crouch 
would  do !" 

Noozle  walked  the  floor  in  portentous  abstraction — 
wiped  his  face  with  terrific  emphasis — and  knocked  his 
hair  back  with  the  slap  belligerent. 

The  ladies  who  were  not  dancing  became  alarmed 
and  sedate:  (Miss  Gilt  excepted;)  the  gentlemen  col- 
lected  in  groups,  and  carried  on  an  animated  conversa 
tion.  As  all  but  myself,  who  could  give  a  correct  ver 
sion  of  the  affair,  were  engaged  in  the  dance,  the  Noozle 
party  had  gained  over  to  their  side  most  the  company 
present,  before  the  dance  ended.  After  various  enqui 
ries,  rumors  and  cerrections,  the  company  generally 
settled  down  upon  the  following  statement,  as  confirmed 
by  the  joint  testimony  of  Rino,  Flirt  and  Noozle. 

"  Crouch  had  an  old  spite  against  Miss  Rino,  for  noth 
ing  at  all — Began  cursing  and  abusing  her  because  she 
was  not  the  first  lady  in  the  room — Refused  to  wait  two 
minutes  for  her  arrival — As  soon  as  he  saw  her  enter 
the  ball  room,  usurped  Mr.  Flirt's  appointment,  and  com 
menced  calling  the  numbers  on  purpose  to  cut  her  out. 
She,  seeing  his  object,  snatched  up  a  number,  and  rushed 
to  her  place ;  but  it  was  occupied  by  Miss  Jones  ;  who 
1 


138  GEORGIA   SCENES,  fcC. 

seeing  the  superiority  of  her  claims,  offered  to  give  way  ; 
and  was  actually  retiring,  when  Crouch  seized  her  by 
the  arm,  jerked  her  back,  and  said  "  Keep  your  place, 
Miss!  'You1  re  entitled  to  it,  if  Miss  Rino  has  got  the 
number ;  and  you  shall  have  it"  And  when  Mr.  Noo- 
zle  was  pleading  with  him  just  to  look  at  Miss  Rino's 
ticket,  he  just  turned  upon  his  heel,  and  called  for  the 
music.  This  was  all  reported  to  Crouch,  as  confirmed 
by  the  trio  before  mentioned.  He  pronounced  it  all  an  in 
famous  lie,  from  beginning  to  end,  and  was  with  difficulty 
restrained  from  going  immediately  after  Flirt,  to  pick 
him  up,  as  he  said,  and  wear  him  out  upon  Noozle. 

As  soon  as  the  first  cotillon  ended,  the  Crouch  party 
began  to  gain  ground  ;  but  not  without  warm  words  be 
tween  several  gentlemen,  and  a  general  depression  of 
spirits  through  the  company. 

The  dancing  of  the  ladies  was,  with  few  exceptions, 
much  after  the  same  fashion.  I  found  not  the  least  diffi 
culty  in  resolving  it  into  the  three  motions,  of  a  turkey- 
cock  strutting,  a  sparrow-hawk  lighting,  and  a  duck 
walking.  Let  the  reader  suppose  a  lady  beginning  a 
strut  at  her  own  place,  and  ending  it  (precisely  as  does 
the  turkey-cock,)  three  feet  nearer  the  gentleman  oppo 
site  her ;  then  giving  three  sparrow-hawk  bobs,  and 
then  waddling  back  to  her  place  like  a  duck  ;  and  he 
will  have  a  pretty  correct  idea  of  their  dancing.  Not 
that  the  three  movements  were  blended  at  every  turn  of 
the  dance  ;  but  that  one  or  more  of  the  three  answered 
to  every  turn.  The  strut  prevailed  most  in  ballancing  ; 
the  bobs,  when  ballanced  to  ;  and  the  waddle,  when 
going  round.  To  all  this,  Mrs.  Mushy  was  an  excep 
tion.  When  she  danced,  every  particle  of  her  danced, 
hi  spite  of  herself. 

There  was  as  little  variety  in  the  gentlemen's  dancing 
as  there  was  in  the  ladies'.     Any  one  who  has  seen  a 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  139 

gentleman  clean  mud  off  his  shoes  on  a  door  mat,  has 
seen  nearly  all  of  it ;  the  principal  difference  being,  that 
some  scraped  with  a  pull  of  the  foot,  some  with  a  push, 
and  some  with  both. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  I  to  a  gentleman,  "  they  take  no 
steps  because  the  music  will  not  admit  of  them  ?" 

"  Oh  no,"  said  he  ;  "  It's  quite  ungenteel  to  take  steps." 
I  thought  of  the  wag's  remarks  about  Miss  Crump's 
music.  "  If  this  be  their  dancing"  thought  I,  "  what 
must  their  mourning  be  !" 

A  splendid  supper  was  prepared  at  twelve  o'clock  ;  and 
the  young  ladies  ate  almonds,  raisins,  apples,  oranges, 
jelly,  sillabub,  custard,  candy,  sugar-plums,  kisses  and 
cake,  as  if  they  had  been  owing  them  an  old  grudge. 
But  the  married  gentlemen  did  not  come  up  to  supper. 
«  And  how  did  the  quarrel  end  ?" 
"  Oh  ;  I  had  like  to  have  forgot  the  denouement  of  the 
quarrel." 

A  correspondence  opened  the  next  morning  between 
the  parties,  in  which  Noozle  was  diffuse,  and  Crouch  la 
conic.  They  once  came  this  near  an  amicable  adjust 
ment  of  the  difference.  Noozle's  second,  (for  the  fash 
ion  is,  for  the  principals  to  get  into  quarrels,  and  for  the 
seconds  to  get  them  out,)  agreed,  if  Crouch  would  strike 
the  word  "  it,"  out  of  one  of  his  letters,  his  friend  would 
be  perfectly  satisfied. 

Mr.  Crouch's  second  admitted  that  the  removal  of  the 
word  would  not  change  the  sense  of  the  letter  the  least ; 
but  that  Mr.  Crouch  having  put  his  life  and  character  in 
his  hands,  he  felt  bound  to  protect  them  with  the  most 
scrupulous  fidelity  ;  he  could  not  therefore  consent  to 
expunge  the  objectionable  word,  unless  the  challenge 
were  withdrawn.  To  show,  however,  his  reluctance  to 
the  shedding  of  blood ;  and  to  acquit  his  friend,  in  the  eyes 
of  the  public,  of  all  blame,  he  would  take  it  upon  himself 


140  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

to  say,  that  if  Mr.  Noozle  would  withdraw  his  objections 
to  the  "t"  Mr.  Crouch  should  expunge  the  "i."  This 
proposition  was  rejected  ;  but  in  return,  it  was  submitted* 
that  if  Mr.  Crouch  would  expunge  the  "  t"  the  "  i" 
might  remain.  *  To  which  it  was  replied,  that  the  altera 
tion  would  convert  the  whole  sentence  into  nonsense ; 
making  it  read  "  i  u,"  instead  of  "  ii  is,"  &c.  Here 
the  seconds  separated,  and  soon  after  the  principals  met ; 
and  Crouch  shot  Noozle,  in  due  form,  and  according  to 
the  latest  fashion,  through  the  knees.  1  went  to  see  him 
after  he  had  received  his  wound ;  and  poor  fellow,  he 
suffered  dreadful  tortures.  So  much,  said  I,  for  a  young 
lady's  lingering  from  a  ball  an  hour  too  long,  in  order  to 
make  herself  conspicuous. 

BALDWIN. 


THE  MOTHER  AND  HER  CHILD. 

Whence  comes  the  gibberish  which  is  almost  invariably 
used  by  mothers  and  nurses,  to  infants  ?  Take  for  ex 
ample  the  following,  which  will  answer  the  two-fold  pur 
pose  of  illustrating  my  idea,  and  of  exhibiting  one  of  the 
peculiarities  of  the  age. 

A  few  days  ago,  I  called  to  spend  an  hour  in  the  after 
noon,  with  Mr.  Slang,  whose  wife  is  the  mother  of  a  child 
about  eight  months  old. 

While  I  was  there,  the  child  in  the  nurse's  arms,  in  an 
adjoining  room,  began  to  cry. 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  141 

"You  rose,"  said  Mrs.  Slang,  "quiet  that  child!" 
Rose  walked  it,  and  sang  to  it ;  but  it  did  not  hush. 

"  You  Rose !  if  you  do  not  quiet  that  child,  I  lay  I 
make  you." 

"  I  is  tried,  ma'am,"  said  Rose,  "  an*  he  would'nt  get 
hushed" — (Child  cries  louder.) 

"Fetch  him  here  to  me,  you  good  for  nothing  hussy 
you.  What's  the  matter  with  him  ?"  reaching  out  her 
arms  to  receive  him. 

"  I  dun  know  ma'am." 

"Nhei — nhun — nho— nha'am  !"  (mocking  and  grin 
ning  at  Rose.) 

As  Rose  delivered  the  child,  she  gave  visible  signs  of 
dodging,  just  as  the  child  left  her  arms ;  and,  that  she 
might  not  be  disappointed,  Mrs.  Slang  gave  her  a  box  : 
in  which  there  seemed  to  be  no  anger  mixed  at  all  ; 
and  which  Rose  received  as  a  matter  of  course,  with 
out  even  changing  countenance  under  it. 

"  Da  den  !"  said  Mrs.  Slang,  "  come  elong  e  muddy 
(mother.)  Did  nassy  Yosey,  (Rose,)  pague  muddy 
thweety  chilluns  ?  (children) — pressing  the  child  to  her 
bosom,  and  rocking  it  backward  and  forward  tenderly. 
"  Muddins  will  whippy  ole  nassy  Yosey.  Ah  !  you  old 
uggy  Yosey,"  (knocking  at  Rose  playfully.)  "  Da  den ; 
muddy  did  wippy  bad  Yosey." 

(Child  continues  crying.) 

"  Why  what  upon  earth  ails  the  child  ?  Rose,  you've 
hurt  this  child,  somehow  or  other  !" 

"  No  m'm,  'cla'  I  didn't — I  was  jis  sitt'n  down  dar  in 
the  rock'n  chair  long  side  o'  Miss  Nancy's  bureau,  an' 
want  doin'  nothin'  't  all  to  him,  jis  playin'  wid  him,  and 
he  jis  begin  to  cry  heself,  when  nobody  wa'n't  doin' 
nothin'  't  all  to  him,  and  nobody  wa'nt  in  dar  nuther 
sept  jis  me  and  him,  and  I  was" — 
12 


142  GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C. 

"  Nhing — nhing — nhing — and  I  expect  you  hit  his 
head  against  the  bureau." 

"  Let  Muddy  see  where  ole  bad  Yosey  knocky  heady 
'gin  de  bureaus.  Muddy  will  see,"  taking  off  the  child's 
cap,  and  finding  nothing. 

(Child  cries  on.) 

"Muddy's  baby  was  hongry.  Dat  was  what  ails 
muddy's  darling,  thsweety  ones.  Was  cho  hongry,  an' 
nobody  would  givy  litty  darling  any  sings  't  all  for  eaty?' 
(loosing  her  frock  bosom.)  "No,  nobody  would  gim 
tshweety  ones  any  sings  fo'eat  't  all" — (offers  the  breast 
to  the  child,  who  rejects  it,  rolls  over,  kicks,  and  screams 
worse  than  ever.) 

"  Hush  !  you  little  brat !  I  believe  it's  nothing  in  the 
world  but  crossness.  Hush  !  (shaking  it,)  hush  I  tell 
you."  (Child  cries  to  the  NE  PLUS  ULTRA.) 

"  Why  surely  a  pin  must  stick  the  child. — Yes,  was 
e  bad  pin  did  ticky  chilluns.  Let  muddy  eee  where  de 
uggy  pin  did  ticky  dear  prettous  creter" — (examining) 
— "Why  no,  it  isn't  a  pin.  Why  what  can  be  the  mat 
ter  with  the  child  !  It  must  have  the  cholic  surely. 
Rose,  go  bring  me  the  paragoric  off  the  mantle-piece. — 
Yes,  muddy's  baby  did  hab  e  tolic.  Dat  was  what  did 
ail  muddy's  prettous  darly  baby."  (Pressing  it  to  her 
bosom  and  rocking  it.  Child  cries  on.) 

Rose  brought  the  paragoric,  handed  it,  dodged,  and 
got  her  expectations  realized  as  before. 

"Now  go  bring  me  the  sugar,  and  some  water." 

Rose  brought  them,  and  delivered  both  without  the 
customary  reward  ;  for  at  that  instant,  the  child  being 
laid  perfectly  still  on  the  lap,  hushed. 

The  paragoric  was  administered,  and  the  child  re 
ceived  it  with  only  a  whimper  now  and  then.  As  soon 
as  it  received  the  medicine,  the  motber  raised  it  up  and 
it  began  to  cry. 


GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C.  143 

"  Why  Lord  help  my  soul,  what's  the  matter  with  the 
child  !  what  have  you  done  to  him,  you  little  hussy  ?" 
(rising  and  walking  towards  Rose.") 

"  'Cla'  Missis,  1  eint  done  nothin'  't  all — was  jis  sittin' 
down  da  by  Miss  Nancy's  bu " 

"  You  lie,  you  slut,"  (hitting  her  a  passing  slap,)  "  I 
know  you've  hurt  him.  Hush,  my  baby,"  (singing  the 
Coquet,)  don't  you  cry,  your  sweet-heart  will  come 
by'm'by  ;  da,  de  dum  dum  dum  day,  da  de  dum  diddle 
dum  dum  day." 

(Child  cries  on.) 

"  Lord  help  my  soul  and  body,  what  can  be  the  mat 
ter  with  my  baby!"  (tears  coming  in  her  own  eyes.) 
"  Something's  the  matter  with  it ;  I  know  it  is,  (laying 
the  child  on  her  lap,  and  feeling  its  arms,  to  see  whether 
it  flinched  at  the  touch  of  any  particular  part.)  But 
the  child  cried  less  while  she  was  feeling  it  than  before. 

"  Yes,  dat  was  it ;  wanted  litty  arms  yubb'd.  Mud 
will  yub  its  sweet  little  arms." 

(Child  begins  again.) 

"  What  upon  earth  can  make  my  baby  cry  so  !"  ris 
ing  and  walking  to  the  window.  (Stops  at  the  window, 
and  the  child  hushes.) 

"  Yes,  dat  was  it :  did  want  to  look  out  'e  windys. 
See  the  petty  chickens.  O-o-o-h  !  Look,  at,  the  beauty, 
rooster  !  !  Yonder's  old  aunt  Betty  !  See  old  aunt 
Betty,  pickin'  up  chips.  Yes,  ole  aunt  Betty,  pickin'  up 
chip  fo'  bake  bicky,  (biscuit)  fo'  good  chilluns.  Good 
aunt  Betty  fo'  make  bicky  fo'  sweet  baby's  supper." 

(Child  begins  again.) 

"Hoo-o-o!  see  de  windy!"  (knocking  on  the  win 
dow.  Child  screams. 

"  You  Rovje,  what  have  you  done  to  this  child  !  You 
little  hussy  you,  if  you  don't  tell  me  how  you  hurt  him, 
I'll  whip  you  as  long  as  1  can  find  you." 


144  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

"  Missis  1  'cla  I  never  done  noth'n'  't  all  to  him.  I 
was  jis  sett'n*  down  da  by  Miss  Nancy's  bu" 

"  If  you  say  « Miss  Nancy's  bureau*  to  me  again,  I'll 
stuff  Miss  Nancy's  bureau  down  your  throat,  you  little 
lying  slut.  I'm  just  as  sure  you've  hurt  him,  as  if  I'd 
seen  you.  How  did  you  hurt  him  ?" 

Here  Rose  was  reduced  to  a  non  plus ;  for,  upon  the 
peril  of  having  a  bureau  stuffed  down  her  throat,  she 
dare  not  repeat  the  oft-told  tale,  and  she  knew  no  other. 
She  therefore  stood  mute. 

"  Julia,"  said  Mr.  Slang,  "  bring  the  child  to  me,  and 
let  me  see  if  I  can  discover  the  cause  of  his  crying." 

Mr.  Slang  took  the  child,  and  commenced  a  careful 
examination  of  it.  He  removed  its  cap,  and  beginning 
at  the  crown  of  its  head,  he  extended  the  search  slowly 
and  cautiously  downward,  accompanying  the  eye  with 
the  touch  of  the  finger.  He  had  not  proceeded  far  in 
this  way,  before  he  discovered  in  the  right  ear  of  the 
child,  a  small  feather,  the  cause,  of  course,  of  all  its 
wailing.  The  cause  removed,  the  child  soon  changed 
its  tears  to  smiles,  greatly  to  the  delight  of  all,  and  to 
none  more  than  to  Rose. 

BALDWIN. 


THE    DEBATING    SOCIETY, 

The  following  is  not  strictly  a  "  Georgia  Scene ;" 
but  as  Georgians  were  the  chief  actors  in  it,  it  may  per 
haps  be  introduced,  with  propriety,  in  these  sketches. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  145 

About  three  and  twenty  years  ago,  at  the  celebrated 

school  in  W n,  was  formed  a  Debating  Society, 

composed  of  young  gentlemen  between  the  ages  of  sev 
enteen  and  twenty -two.  Of  the  number  were  two,  who, 
rather  from  an  uncommon  volubility,  than  from  any  su 
perior  gifts  or  acquirements,  which  they  possessed  over 
their  associates,  were  by  common  consent,  placed  at  the 
head  of  the  fraternity. — At  least  this  was  true  of  one  of 
them  :  the  other  certainly  had  higher  claims  to  his  dis 
tinction.  He  was  a  man  of  the  highest  order  of  intel 
lect,  who,  though  he  has  since  been  known  throughout 
the  Union,  as  one  of  the  ablest  speakers  in  the  country, 
seems  to  me  to  have  added  but  little  to  his  powers  in 
debate,  since  he  passed  his  twenty -second  year.  The 
name  of  the  first,  was  Longworth  ;  and  McDermot  was 
the  name  of  the  last.  They  were  congenial  spirits, 
warm  friends,  and  classmates,  at  the  time  of  which  I  am 
speaking. 

It  was  a  rule  of  the  Society,  that  every  member  should 
speak  upon  the  subjects  chosen  for  discussion,  or  pay  a 
fine  ;  and  as  all  the  members  valued  the  little  stock  of 
change,  with  which  they  were  furnished,  more  than  they 
did  their  reputation  for  oratory ;  not  a  fine  had  been  im 
posed  for  a  breach  of  this  rule,  from  the  organization  of 
the  society  to  this  time. 

The  subjects  for  discussion,  were  proposed  by  the 
members,  and  selected  by  the  President,  whose  preroga 
tive  it  was  also  to  arrange  the  speakers  on  either  side,rat 
his  pleasure  ;  though  in  selecting  the  subjects,  he  was 
influenced  not  a  little,  by  the  members  who  gave  their 
opinions  freely  of  those  which  were  offered. 

It  was  just  as  the  time  was  approaching,  when  most  of 
the  members  were  to  leave  the  society,  some  for  college, 
and  some  for  the  busy  scenes  of  life,  that  McDermot 
went  to  share  his  classmate's  bed  for  a  night.  In  the 


146  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

course  of  the.  evening's  conversation,  the  society  came 
upon  the  tapis.  "  Mac,"  said  Longworth,  "  would'nt 
we  have  rare  sport,  if  we  could  impose  a  subject  upon 
the  society,  which  has  no  sense  in  it,  and  hear  the  mem 
bers  speak  upon  it  ?" 

"  Zounds,"  said  McDermot,  "  it  would  be  the  finest 
fun  in  the  world.  Let's  try  it  at  all  events — we  can 
lose  nothing  by  the  experiment." 

A  sheet  of  foolscap  was  immediately  divided  between 
them,  and  they  industriously  commenced  the  difficult 
task  of  framing  sentences,  which  should  possess  the  form 
of  a  debateable  question,  without  a  particle  of  the  sub 
stance. — After  an  hour's  toil,  they  at  length  exhibited 
the  fruits  of  their  labor,  and  after  some  reflection,  and 
much  laughing,  they  selected,  from  about  thirty  subjects 
proposed,  the  following,  as  most  likely  to  be  received  by 
the  society : 

"  WHETHER  AT  PUBLIC  ELECTIONS,  SHOULD  THE  VOTES 
OF  FACTION  PREDOMINATE  BY  INTERNAL  SUGGESTIONS  pR 
THE  BIAS  OF  JURISPRUDENCE.  ?" 

Longworth  was  to  propose  it  to  the  society,  and  Me- 
Dermot  was  to  advocate  its  adoption. — As  they  had 
every  reason  to  suppose,  from  the  practice  of  the  past, 
that  they  would  be  placed  at  the  head  of  the  list  of  dispu 
tants,  and  on  opposite  sides,  it  was  agreed  between  them, 
in  case  the  experiment  should  succeed,  that  they  would 
write  off,  and  interchange  their  speeches,  in  order  that 
each  might  quote  literally  from  the  other,  and  thus  seem 
at  least,  to  understand  each  other. 

The  day  at  length  came  for  the  triumph  or  defeat  of 
the  project ;  and  several  accidental  circumstances  con 
spired  to  crown  it  with  success.  The  society  had  entire 
ly  exhausted  their  subjects  ;  the  discussion  of  the  day 
had  been  protracted  to  an  unusual  length,  and  the  horns 
of  the  several  boarding-houses  began  to  sound,  just  as  it 


GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C.  147 

ended.  It  was  at  this  auspicious  moment,  that  Long- 
worth  rose,  and  proposed  his  subject.  It  was  caught  at 
with  rapture  by  McDermot,  as  being  decidedly  the  best, 
that  had  ever  been  submitted  ;  and  he  wondered  that 
none  of  the  members  had  ever  thought  of  it  before. 

It  was  no  sooner  proposed,  than  several  members  ex- 
claimed,  that  they  did  not  understand  it ;  and  demanded 
an  explanation  from  the  mover.  Longworth  replied, 
that  there  was  no  time  then  for  explanations,  but  that 
either  himself  or  Mr.  McDermot  would  explain  it,  at 
any  other  time. 

Upon  the  credit  of  the  maker  and  endorser,  the  sub- 
ject  was  accepted  ;  and  under  pretence  of  economising 
time,  (but  really  to  avoid  a  repitition  of  the  question,) 
Longworth  kindly  offered  to  record  it,  for  the  Secretary. 
This  labor  ended,  he  announced  that  he  was  prepared 
for  the  arrangement  of  the  disputants. 

"  Put  yourself,"  said  the  President,  "  on  the  affirma 
tive,  and  Mr.  McDermot  on  the  negative." 

"  The  subject,""  said  Longworth,  "  cannot  well  be 
resolved  into  an  affirmative  and  negative.  It  consists 
more  properly,  of  two  conflicting  affirmatives  :  I  have 
therefore  drawn  out  the  heads,  under  which  the  speakers 
are  to  be  arranged  thus  : 
Internal  Suggestions.  Bias  of  Jurisprudence. 

Then  put  yourself  Internal  Suggestions — Mr.  Me- 
Dermot  the  other  side,  Mr.  Craig  on  your  side — Mr. 
Pentigall  the  other  side,"  and  so  on. 

Me  Dermot  and  Longworth  now  determined  that  they 
would  not  be  seen  by  any  other  member  of  the  society 
during  the  succeeding  week,  except  at  times  when  ex 
planations  could  not  be  asked,  or  when  they  were  too 
busy  to  give  them.  Consequently,  the  week  passed 
away,  without  any  explanations ;  and  the  members  were 
summoned  to  dispose  of  the  important  subject,  with 


148  GEORGIA    SCENES,  kC. 

no  other  lights  upon  it  than  those  which  they  could  col- 
lect  from  its  terms.  When  they  assembled,  there  was 
manifest  alarm  on  the  countenances  of  all  but  two  of 
them. 

The  Society  was  opened  in  due  form,  and  Mr.  Long- 
worth  was  called  on  to  open  the  debate.  He  rose  and 
proceeded  as  follows  : 

"  Mr.  President — The  subject  selected  for  this  day's 
discussion,  is  one  of  vast  importance,  pervading  the  pro- 
found  depths  of  psychology,  and  embracing  within  its 
comprehensive  range,  all  that  is  interesting  in  morals, 
government,  law  and  politics.  But,  sir,  I  shall  not  fol 
low  it  through  all  its  interesting  and  diversified  ramifi 
cations  ;  but  endeavor  to  deduce  from  it  those  great  and 
fundamental  principles,  which  have  direct  bearing,  upon 
the  antagonist  positions  of  the  disputants  ;  confining  my. 
self  more  immediately  to  its  psycological  influence, 
when  exerted,  especially  upon  the  votes  of  faction : 
for  here  is  the  point  upon  which  the  question  mainly 
turns.  In  the  next  place,  I  shall  consider  the  effects  of 
those  "  suggestions"  emphatically  termed  "  internal" 
when  applied  to  the  same  subject.  And  in  the  third 
place,  I  shall  compare  these  effects,  with  "  the  bias  of 
jurisprudence,"  considered  as  the  only  resort  in  times  of 
popular  excitement — for  these  are  supposed  to  exist  by 
the  very  terms  of  the  question.  • 

"The  first  head  of  this  arrangement,  and  indeed  the 
whole  subject  of  dispute,  has  already  been  disposed  of 
by  this  society.  We  have  discussed  the  question,  "  are 
there  any  innate  maxims  ?"  and  with  that  subject  and 
this,  there  is  such  an  intimate  affinity,  that  it  is'  impossi 
ble  to  disunite  them,  without  prostrating  the  vital  ener 
gies  of  both,  and  introducing  the  wildest  disorder  and 
confusion,  where,  by  the  very  nature  of  things,  there 
exists  the  most  harmonious  coincidences,  and  the  most 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  149 

happy  and  euphonic  congenialities.  Here  then  might  I 
rest,  Mr.  President,  upon  the  decision  of  this  society, 
with  perfect  confidence.  But,  sir,  I  am  not  forced  to 
rely  upon  the  inseparable  affinities  of  the  two  questions, 
for  success  in  this  dispute,  obvious  as  they  must  be  to 
every  reflecting  mind.  All  history,  ancient  and  modern, 
furnish  examples  corroborative  of  the  views  which  I 
have  taken  of  this  deeply  interesting  subject. — By  what 
means  did  the  renowned  poets,  philosophers,  orators  and 
statesmen  of  antiquity,  gain  their  immortality  ?  Whence 
did  Milton,  Shakspeare,  Newton,  Locke,  Watts,  Paley, 
Burke,  Chatham,  Pitt,  Fox,  and  a  host  of  others  whom 
I  might  name,  pluck  their  never-fading  laurels  !  1  an 
swer  boldly,  and  without  the  fear  of  contradiction,  that, 
though  they  all  reached  the  temple  of  fame  by  different 
routes,  they  all  passed  through  the  broad  vista  of  "  zn- 
ternal  suggestions. "  The  same  may  be  said  of  Jeffer 
son,  Madison,  and  many  other  distinguished  personages 
of  our  own  country. 

"  I  challenge  the  gentlemen  on  the  other  side  to  pro* 
duce  examples  like  these  in  support  of  their  cause." 

Mr.  Longworth  pressed  these  profound  and  logical 
views  to  a  length  to  which  our  limits  will  not  permit  us  to 
follow  him,  and  which  the  reader's  patience  would  hardly 
bear,  if  they  would.  Perhaps,  however,  he  will  bear 
with  us,  while  we  give  the  conclusion  of  Mr.  Long, 
worth's  remarks  :  as  it  was  here,  that  he  put  forth  all 
his  strength  : 

"  Mr.  President — Let  the  bias  of  jurisprudence  pre 
dominate,  and  how  is  it  possible,  (considering  it  merely 
as  extending  to  those  impulses  which  may  with  propriety 
be  termed  a  bias,)  how  is  it  possible,  for  a  government 
to  exist,  whose  object  is  the  public  good  !  The  marble- 
hearted  marauder  might  seize  the  throne  of  civit  au 
thority,  and  hurl  into  thraldom  the  votaries  of  rational 
m 


150  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

liberty.  Virtue,  justice  and  all  the  nobler  principles  of 
human  nature,  would  wither  away  under  the  pestilential 
breath  of  political  faction,  and  an  unnerved  constitution, 
be  left  to  the  sport  of  demagogue  and  parasite. — Crash 
after  crash,  would  be  heard  in  quick  succession,  as  the 
strong  pillars  of  the  republic  give  way,  and  Despotism 
would  shout  in  hellish  triumph  amidst  the  crumbling 
ruins— Anarchy  would  wave  her  bloody  sceptre  over  the 
devoted  land,  and  the  blood-hounds  of  civil  war,  would 
lap  the  crimson  gore  of  our  most  worthy  citizens.  The 
shrieks  of  women,  and  the  screams  of  children,  would 
be  drowned  amidst  the  clash  of  swords,  and  the  cannon's 
peal :  and  Liberty,  mantling  her  face  from  the  horrid 
scene,  would  spread  her  golden-tinted  pinions,  and  wing 
her  flight  to  some  far  distant  land,  never  again  to  re-visit 
our  peaceful  shores.  In  vain  should  we  then  sigh  for 
the  beatific  reign  of  those  "  suggestions"  which  I  am 
proud  to  acknowledge  as  peculiarly  and  exclusively 
'internal.'" 

.  Mr.  McDermot  rose  promptly  at  the  call  of  the  Pre 
sident,  and  proceeded  as  follows : 

"  Mr.  President — If  I  listened  unmoved  to  the  very 
labored  appeal  to  the  passions,  which  has  just  been  made, 
it  was  not  because  I  am  insensible  to  the  powers  of  elo 
quence  ;  but  because  I  happen  to  be  blessed  with  the 
small  measure  of  sense,  which  is  necessary,  to  distin 
guish  true  eloquence  from  the  wild  ravings  of  an  un 
bridled  imagination.  Grave  and  solemn  appeals,  when 
ill-timed  and  misplaced,  are  apt  to  excite  ridicule ;  hence 
it  was,  that  I  detected  myself  more  than  once,  in  open 
laughter,  during  the  most  pathetic  parts  of  Mr.  Long- 
worth's  argument,  if  so  it  can  be  called.*  In  the  midst 
of  «« crashing  pillars,"  "  crumbling  ruins,"  "  shouting 

*  Thib  was  extemporaneous,  and  well  conceived  ;  for  Mr. 
mot  had  not  played  bis  part  with  becoming  gravity. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

despotism,"  "  screaming  women,*'  and  "  flying  Liberty," 
the  question  was  perpetually  recurring  to  mo,  "  what  has 
all  this  to  do  with  the  subject  of  dispute  ?"  I  will  not 
follow  the  example  of  that  gentleman — It  shall  be  my 
endeavor  to  clear  away  the  mist  which  he  has  thrown 
around  the  subject,  and  to  place  it  before  the  society,  in 
a  clear,  intelligible  point  of  view  :  for  I  must  say,  that 
though  his  speech  "  bears  strong  marks  of  the  pen" 
(sarcastically,)  it  has  but  few  marks  of  sober  reflec 
tion.  Some  of  it,  I  confess,  is  very  intelligible  and  very 
plausable ;  but  most  of  it,  I  boldly  assert,  no  man  living 
can  comprehend.  I  mention  this,  for  the  edification  of 
that  gentleman — (who  is  usually  clear  and  forcible,) 
to  teach  him,  that  he  is  most  successful  when  he  labors 
least. 

"  Mr.  President :  The  gentleman,  in  opening  the  de 
bate,  stated  that  the  question  was  one  of  vast  importance  ; 
pervading  the  profound  depths  of  psychology,  and  em 
bracing,  within  its  ample  range,  the  whole  circle  of  arts 
and  sciences.  And  really,  sir,  he  has  verified  his  state 
ment  ;  for  he  has  extended  it  over  the  whole  moral  and 
physical  world.  But,  Mr.  President,  I  take  leave  to 
differ  from  the  gentleman,  at  the  very  threshhold  of  his 
remarks.  The  subject  is  one  which  is  confined  within 
very  narrow  limits.  It  extends  no  further  than  to  the 
elective  franchise,  and  is  not  even  commensurate  with 
this  important  privilege  ;  for  it  stops  short  at  the  vote  of 
faction.  In  this  point  of  light,  the  subject  comes  within 
the  grasp  of  the  most  common  intellect  ;  it  is  plain,  sim 
ple,  natural  and  intelligible.  Thus  viewing  it,  Mr.  Pre 
sident,  where  does  the  gentleman  find  in  it,  or  in  all  nature 
besides,  the  original  of  the  dismal  picture  which  he  has 
presented  to  the  society  ?  It  loses  all  its  interest,  and 
becomes  supremely  ridiculous.  Having  thus,  Mr.  Presi- 
dent,  divested  the  subject  of  all  obscurity—having  reduced 


152  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

it  to  those  few  elements,  with  which  we  are  all  familiar  ; 
1  proceed  to  make  a  few  deductions  from  the  premises, 
which  seem  to  me  inevitable,  and  decisive  of  the  ques 
tion.  I  lay  it  down  as  a  self-evident  proposition,  that 
faction  in  all  its  forms,  is  hideous ;  and  I  maintain,  with 
equal  confidence,  that  it  never  has  been,  nor  ever  will 
be,  restrained  by  those  suggestions,  which  the  gentleman 
*'  emphatically  terms  internal."  No,  sir,  nothing  short 
of  the  bias,  and  the  very  strong  bias  too,  of  jurisprudence, 
or  the  potent  energies  of  the  sword,  can  restrain  it. 
But,  sir,  I  shall  here,  perhaps,  be  asked,  whether  there 
is  not  a  very  wide  difference  between  a  turbulent,  lawless 
faction,  and  the  vote  of  faction  ?  Most  unquestionably 
there  is  ;  and  to  this  distinction  I  shall  presently  advert, 
and  demonstrably  prove  that  it  is  a  distinction,  which 
makes  altogether  in  our  favor." 

Thus  did  Mr.  McDermot  continue  to  dissect  and  ex- 
pose  his  adversary's  argument,  in  the  most  clear,  con 
clusive  and  masterly  manner,  at  considerable  length. 
But  we  cannot  deal  more  favorably  by  him,  than  we 
have  dealt  by  Mr.  Longworth.  We  must,  therefore, 
dismiss  him,  after  we  shall  have  given  the  reader  his 
concluding  remarks.  They  were  as  follows  : 

"Let  us  now  suppose  Mr.  Longworth's  principles 
brought  to  the  test  of  experiment.  Let  us  suppose  his 
language  addressed  to  all  mankind — '  We  close  the  tem 
ples  of  justice  as  useless  ;  we  burn  our  codes  of  laws  as 
worthless ;  and  we  substitute  in  their  'places,  the  more 
valuable  restraints  of  internal  suggestions.  Thieves, 
invade  not  your  neighbor's  property  :  if  you  do,  you  will 
be  arraigned  before  the  august  tribunal  of  conscience. 
Robbers,  stay  your  lawless  hand  ;  or  you  will  be  visited 
with  the  tremendous  penalties  of  psychology.  Murder 
ers,  spare  the  blood  of  your  fellow  creatures ;  you  will 
be  exposed  to  the  excrutiating  tortures  ofinate  maxims — 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  153 

when  it  shall  be  discovered  that  there  are  any.  Mr. 
President,  could  there  be  a  broader  license  to  crime  than 
this?  Could  a  better  plan  be  devissd  for  dissolving  the 
bands  of  civil  society  ?  Tt  requires  not  the  gift  of  pro 
phecy,  to  foresee  the  consequences,  of  these  novel  and 
monstrous  principles.  The  strong  would  tyrannize  over 
the  weak  ;  the  poor  would  plunder  the  rich  ;  the  servant 
would  rise  above  the  master ;  the  drones  of  society 
would  fatten  upon  the  hard  earnings  of  the  industrious — 
Indeed,  sir,  industry  would  soon  desert  the  land ;  for  it 
would  have  neither  reward  nor  encouragement.  Com. 
merce  would  cease ;  the  arts  and  sciences  would  lan 
guish  ;  all  the  sacred  relations  would  be  dissolved,  and 
scenes  of  havoc,  dissolution  and  death  ensue,  such  as 
never  before  visited  the  world,  and  such  as  never  will 
visit  it,  until  mankind  learn  to  repose  the  ir  destinies  upon 
"those  suggestions,  emphatically  termed  internal." — 
From  all  these  evils  there  is  a  secure  retreat  behind  the 
brazen  wall  of  the  *  bias  of  jurisprudence.'  " 

The  gentleman  who  was  next  called  on  to  engage  in 
the  debate,  was  John  Craig ;  a  gentleman  of  good  hard 
sense,  but  who  was  utterly  incompetent  to  say  a  word 
upon  a  subject  which  he  did  not  understand.  He  pro 
ceeded  thus  : 

"Mr.  President — Wlien  this  subject  was  proposed,  I 
candidly  confessed  I  did  not  understand  it,  and  I  was 
informed  by  Mr.  Longworth  and  Mr.  McDermot,  that 
either  of  them  would  explain  it,  at  any  leisure  moment. 
But,  sir,  they  seem  to  have  taken  very  good  care,  from 
that  time  to  this,  to  have  no  leisure  moment.  I  have 
inquired  of  both  of  them,  repeatedly  for  an  explanation  ; 
but  they  were  always  too  busy  to  talk  about  it.  Well, 
sir,  as  it  was  proposed  by  Mr.  Longworth,  I  thought  he 
would  certainly  explain  it  in  his  speech  ;  but  I  under- 
stood  no  more  of  his  speech  than  I  did  of  the  subject. 


154  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

Weil,  sir,  I  thought  I  should  certainly  learn  something 
from  Mr.  McDermot ;  especially  as  he  promised  at  the 
commencement  of  his  speech  to  clear  away  the  mist  that 
Mr.  Longworth  had  thrown  about  the  subject,  and  to 
place  it  in  a  clear,  intelligible  point  of  light.  But,  sir, 
the  only  difference  between  his  speech  and  Mr.  Long- 
worth's,  is,  that  it  was  not  quite  as  flighty  as  Mr. 
Long  worth's.  I  could  n't  understand  head  nor  tail  of 
it.  At  one  time  they  seemed  to  argue  the  question,  as 
if  it  were  this :  "  Is  it  better  to  have  law  or  no  law  ?" 
At  another,  as  though  it  was,  "  should  faction  be  gov 
erned  by  law,  or  be  left  to  their  own  consciences?" 
But  most  of  the  time  they  argued  it,  as  if  it  were,  just 
what  it  seems  to  be — a  sentence  without  sense  or  mean 
ing.  But,  sir,  I  suppose  its  obscurity  is  owing  to  my 
dullness  of  apprehension — for  they  appeared  to  argue  it 
with  great  earnestness  and  feeling,  as  if  they  -under 
stood  it. 

"  I  shall  put  my  interpretation  upon  it,  Mr.  President. 
and  argue  it  accordingly. 

"  *  WHETHER  AT  PUBLIC  ELECTIONS' — that  is,  for  mem- 
bers  of  Congress,  members  of  the  Legislature,  &c. 
«  SHOULD  THE  VOTES  of  faction1 — I  don't  know  what  «/ac- 
tion*  has  got  to  do  with  it ;  and  therefore  I  shall  throw 
it  out.  *  SHOULD  THE  VOTES  PREDOMINATE,  BY  INTERNAL 
SUGGESTIONS  OR  THE  BIAS' — I  don't  know  what  the  article 
is  put  in  here  for.  It  seems  to  me,  it  ought  to  be,  be 
BIASED  by  'jurisprudence*  or  law — In  short,  Mr.  Presi 
dent,  I  understand  the  question  to  be,  should  a  man  vote 
as  he  pleases,  or  should  the  law  say  how  he  should 
vote?" 

Here  Mr.  Longworth  rose  and  observed,  that  though 
Mr.  Craig  was  on  his  side,  he  felt  it  due  to  their  adver 
saries,  to  state,  that  this  was  not  a  true  exposition  of  the 
subject.  This  exposition  settled  the  question  at  once  on 


GEORGIA   SCENES, 


155 


his  side  ;  for  nobody  would,  for  a  moment,  contend,  that 
the  law  should  declare  how  men  should  vote.  Unless 
it  be  confined  to  the  vote  of  faction  and  the  bias  of 
jurisprudence,  it  was  no  subject  at  all.  To  all  this  Mr. 
McDermot  signified  his  unqualified  approbation;  and 
seemed  pleased  with  the  candor  of  his  opponent. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Craig,  "  I  thought  it  was  impossible 
that  any  one  should  propose  such  a  question  as  that  to  the 
society;  but  will  Mr.  Long  worth  tell  us,  if  it  does  not 
mean  that,  what  does  it  mean  ?  for  I  don't  see  what  great 
change  is  made  in  it  by  his  explanation." 

Mr.  Longw*rth  replied,  that  if  the  remarks  which  he 
had  just  made,  and  his  argument,  had  not  fully  explain 
ed  the  subject  to  Mr.  Craig,  he  feared  it  would  be  out  of 
his  power  to  explain  it. 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Craig,  "  I'll  pay  my  fine,  for  I  don't 
understand  a  word  of  it." 

The  next  one  summoned  to  the  debate  was  Mr.  Pen- 
tigall.  Mr.  Pentigall  was  one  of  those  who  would 
never  acknowledge  his  ignorance  of  any  thing,  which 
any  person  else  understood  ;  and  that  Longworth  and 
McDermot  were  both  masters  of  the  subject,  was  clear, 
both  from  their  fluency  and  seriousness.  He  therefore 
determined  to  understand  it,  at  all  hazards. — Conse 
quently  he  rose  at  the  President's  command,  with  consi 
derable  self-confidence.  I  regret,  however,  that  it  is 
impossible  to  commit  Mr.  Pentigall's  manner  to  paper, 
without  which,  his  remarks  lose  nearly  all  their  interest. 
He  was  a  tall,  handsome  man ;  a  little  theatf ic  in  his 
manner,  rapid  in  his  delivery,  and  singular  in  his  pro 
nunciation.  He  gave  to  the  e  and  i,  of  our  language, 
the  sound  of  « — at  least  his  peculiar  intonations  of  voice, 
seemed  to  give  them  that  sound ;  and  his  rapidity  01 
utterance  seemed  to  change  the  termination,  "  /z'ow"  into 
"  aft."  With  all  his  peculiarities,  however,  he  was  a 


156  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

fine  fellow.  If  he  was  ambitious,  he  was  not  invidious, 
and  he  possessed  an  amicable  disposition.  He  proceeded 
as  follows  : 

"  Mr.  President — This  internal  suggestion  which  has 
been  so  eloquently  discussed  by  Mr.  Longworth,  >and  the 
bias  of  jurisprudence  which  has  been  so  ably  advocated 
by  Mr.  McDermot — hem ! — Mr.  President,  in  order  to 
fix  the  line  of  demarkation  between — ah — the  internal 
suggestion  and  the  bias  of  jurisprudence — Mr.  President, 
I  think,  sir,  that — ah — the  subject  must  be  confined  to 
the  vote  of  faction,  and  the  bias  of  jurisprudence." 

Here  Mr.  Pentigall  clapt  his  right  hand  to  his  fore 
head,  as  though  he  had  that  moment  heard  some 
overpowering  news ;  and  after  maintaining  this  position 
for  about  the  space  often  seconds,  he  slowly  withdrew 
his  hand,  gave  his  head  a  slight  inclination  to  the  right, 
raised  his  eyes  to  the  President  as  if  just  awakening 
from  a  trance,  and  with  a  voice  of  the  most  hopeless 
despair,  concluded  with  "  1  dont  understand  the  subject, 
Muster  Prusidunt." 

The  rest  of  the  members  on  both  sides  submitted  to 
be  fined  rather  than  attempt  the  knotty  subject ;  but  by 
common  consent,  the  penal  rule  was  dispensed  with. 
Nothing  now  remained  to  close  the  exercises,  but  the 
decision  of  the  Chair. 

The  President,  John  Nuble,  was  a  young  man,  not 
unlike  Craig  in  his  turn  of  mind  ;  though  he  possessed 
an  intellect  a  little  more  sprightly  than  Craig's. — His 
decision  «was  short. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  I  do  not  understand  the  sub 
ject.  This,"  continued  he  (pulling  out  his  knife,  and 
pointing  to  the  silvered  or  cross  side  of  it)  "is  'Internal 
Suggestions.'  And  this"  (pointing  to  the  other,  or  pile 
side)  "is  *  Bias  of  Jurisprudence' :"  so  saying,  he  threw 
up  his  knife,  and  upon  its  fall,  determined  that  '  Internal 


GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C.  157 

Suggestions'  had  got  it ;  and  ordered  the  decision  to  be 
registered  accordingly. 

It  is  worthy  of  note,  that  in  their  zeal  to  accomplish 
their  purpose,  Longworth  and  McDermot  forgot  to  des 
troy  the  lists  of  subjects,  from  which  they  had  selected 
the  one  so  often  mentioned ;  and  one  of  these  lists  con- 
taming  the  subject  discussed,  with  a  number  more  like  it, 
was  picked  up  by  Mr.  Craig,  who  made  a  public  exhi- 
bition  of  it,  threatening  to  arraign  the  conspirators  before 
the  society,  for  a  contempt.  But,  as  the  parting  hour 
was  at  hand,  he  overlooked  it  with  the  rest  of  the  bro 
therhood,  and  often  laughed  heartily  at  the  trick. 

HALL. 


THE   MILITIA  COMPANY  DRILL.* 

I  happened,  not  long  since,  to  be  present  at  the  muster 
of  a  captain's  company,  in  a  remote  part  of  one  of  the 
counties;  and  as  no  general  description  could  convey 
an  accurate  idea  of  the  achievements  of  that  day,  I  must 
be  permitted  to  go  a  little  into  detail,  as  well  as  my  re 
collection  will  serve  me. 

The  men  had  been  notified  to  meet  at  nine  o'clock, 
"  armed  and  equipped  as  the  law  directs  ;"  that  is  to  say, 
with  a  gun  and  cartridge  box  at  least,  but,  as  directed  by 
the  law  of  the  United  States,  "with  a  good  firelock,  a 


*  This  is  from  th»  pen  of  a  friend,  who  has  kindly  permitted  me  to 
place  it  among  the  "  Georgia  Scenes  "  It  was  taken  from  the  life, 
arid  published  about  twenty  year*  ago. — The  Author. 


153  GEORGIA   SCENES,    &C. 

sufficient  bayonet  and  belt,  and  a  pouch  with  a  box  to 
contain  no  less  than  twenty-four  sufficient  cartridges 
of  powder  and  ball." 

At  twelve,  about  one  third,  perhaps  one  half,  of  the 
men  had  collected,  and  an  inspector's  return  of  the  num 
ber  present,  and  of  their  arms,  would  have  stood  nearly 
thus  :  1  captain,  1  lieutenant,  ensign,  none ;  fifers,  none  ; 
privates,  present  24  ;  ditto,  absent  40 ;  guns,  14  ;  gun- 
locks,  12;  ramrods,  10;  rifle  pouches,  3;  bayonets, 
none  ;  belts,  none  ;  spare  flints,  none  ;  cartridges,  none  ; 
horsewhips,  walking  canes  and  umbrellas,  10.  A 
little  before  one,  the  captain,  whom  I  shall  distinguish 
by  the  name  of  Clodpole,  gave  directions  for  forming 
the  line  of  parade.  In  obedience  to  this  order,  one 
of  the  sergeants,  whose  lungs  had  long  supplied  the 
place  of  a  drum  and  fife,  placed  himself  in  front  of 
the  house,  and  began  to  ball  with  great  vehemence, 
'<  All  Captain  Clodpole's  company  parade  here !  Come 
GENTLEMEN,  parade  here!"  says  he — "all  you  that  has 
n't  got  guns  fall  into  the  lower  eend."  He  might  have 
bawled  till  this  time,  with  as  little  success  as  the  syrens 
sung  to  Ulysses,  had  he  not  changed  his  post  to  a  neigh- 
boring  shade.  There  he  was  immediately  joined  by  all 
who  were  then  at  leisure ;  the  others  were  at  that  time 
engaged  as  parties  or  spectators  at  a  game  of  fives,  and 
could  not  just  then  attend.  However,  in  less  than  half 
an  hour  the  game  was  finished,  and  the  captain  enabled 
to  form  his  company,  and  proceed  in  the  duties  of  the  day. 

Look  to  the  right  and  dress  ! 

They  were  soon,  by  the  help  of  the  non-commissioned 
officers,  placed  in  a  straight  line ;  but,  as  every  man 
was  anxious  to  see  how  the  rest  stood,  those  on  the 
wings  pressed  forward  for  that  purpose,  till  the  whole 
line  assumed  nearly  the  form  of  a  crescent. 


GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C.  159 

"  Why,  look  at  'em,"  says  the  captain  ;  "  why,  gentle- 
men,  you  are  all  a  crooking  in  at  both  eends,  so  that  you 
will  get  on  to  me  bye  and  bye !  Come,  gentlemen, 
dress,  dress  /" 

This  was  accordingly  done  ;  but,  impelled  by  the 
same  motives  as  before,  they  soon  resumed  their  former 
figure,  and  so  they  were  permitted  to  remain. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,"  says  the  captain,  "  I  am  going  to 
carry  you  through  the  revolutions  of  the  manuel  exer 
cise,  and  1  want  you,  gentlemen,  if  you  please,  to  pay 
particular  attention  to  the  word  of  command,  just  exactly 
as  I  give  it  out  to  you.  I  hope  you  will  have  a  little 
patience,  gentlemen,  if  you  please,  and  if  I  should  be 
agoing  wrong,  I  will  be  much  obliged  to  any  of  you, 
gentlemen,  to  put  me  right  again,  for  I  mean  all  for  the 
best,  and  I  hope  you  will  excuse  me  if  you  please.  And 
one  thing,  gentlemen,  I  caution  you  against,  in  particu 
lar — and  that  is  this — not  to  make  any  mistakes  if  you 
can  possibly  help  it ;  and  the  best  way  to  do  this,  will 
be  to  do  all  the  motions  right  at  first ;  and  that  will  help 
us  to  get  along  so  much  the  faster ;  and  I  will  try  to 
have  it  over  as  soon  as  possible. — Come  boys,  come  to 
a  shoulder/' 
Poise,  foolk  /* 

Cock,foolk!     Very  handsomely  done. 
Take  aim  ! 

Ram  down  catridge  !  No  !  No  !  Fire  !  I  recollect 
now  that  firing  comes  next  after  taking  aim,  according 
to  Steuben ;  but,  with  your  permission,  gentlemen,  I'll 
read  the  words  of  command  just  exactly  as  they  are 
printed  in  the  book,  and  then  I  shall  be  sure  to  be  right. 
"  Oh  yes !  read  it  Captain,  read  it !"  (exclaimed  twenty 
voices  at  once ;)  "  that  will  save  time." 

*  A  contraction  and  corruption  of  "  Firelock."  Thus  :  "  Firelock," 
"flock,"  "foolk." 


160  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

"  'Tention  the  whole !  Please  to  observe,  gentlemen, 
that  at  the  word  "  fire  !"  you  must  fire  ;  that  is,  if  any 
of  your  guns  are  loaden'd,  you  m^ist  not  shoot  in  yearn- 
est,  but  only  make  pretence  like  ;  and  you,  gentlemen 
fellow  soldiers,  who's  armed  with  nothing  but  sticks, 
riding  switches  and  cern  stalks,  need  n't  go  through  the 
firings,  but  stand  as  you  are,  and  keep  yourselves  to 
yourselves. 

Half  cock,  fo oik  !     Very  well  done. 

Sj  h,  e,  t,  (spelling)  Shet  pan  !  That  too  would  have 
been  handsomely  done,  if  you  had'nt  handled  cartridge 
instead  of  shotting  pan ;  but  I  suppose  you  was  n't  no 
ticing. — Now  'tention  one  and  all,  gentlemen,  and  do  that 
motion  again. 

tihet  pan  !  Very  good,  very  well  indeed  ;  you  did 
that  motion  equal  to  any  old  soldier — you  improve  as 
tonishingly. 

Handle  cartridge  !  Pretty  well,  considering  you  done 
it  wrong  end  foremost,  as  if  you  took  the  cartridge  out 
of  your  mouth,  and  bit  off  the  twist  with  the  cartridge 
box. 

Draw  rammer !  Those  who  have  no  rammers  to 
their  guns  need  not  draw,  but  only  make  the  motion ;  it 
will  do  just  as  well,  and  save  a  great  deal  of  time. 

Return  rammer  !  Very  well  again — But  that  would 
have  been  clone,  I  think?  with  greater  expertness,  if  you 
had  performed  the  motion  with  a  little  more  dexterity. 

S,  h,  o,  w,  / — Shoulder  f oof k  !  Very  handsomely  done 
indeed !  Put  $our  guns  on  the  other  shoulder,  gentle 
men. 

Order  foolk !  Not  quite  so  well,  gentlemen — not 
quite  altogether ;  but  perhaps  I  did  not  speak  loud  enough 
for  you  to  hear  me  all  at  once.  Try  once  more,  if  you 
please.  I  hope  you  will  be  patient,  gentlemen ;  we  will 
soon  be  through. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  1 

Order  foolk  !  Handsomely  done,  gentlemen ! — Very 
handsome  done  !  and  altogether  too,  except  that  one  half 
of  you  were  a  teeth  too  soon,  and  the  other  half  a  leetle 
too  late. 

In  laying  down  your  guns,  gentlemen,  take  care  to 
lay  the  locks  up  and  the  other  side  down. 

'  Tention  the  whole  !     Ground  foolk !     Very  well. 
Charge  bayonet  !  (Some  of  the  men) — "  That  can't 
be,  Captain — pray  look  again ;  for  how  can  we  charge 
bayonet  without  our  guns  ?" 

(Captain.)  1  don't  know  as  to  that,  but  I  know  I'm 
right,  for  here  'tis  printed  in  the  book ;  c,  h,  a,  r — yes, 
charge  bayonet,  that's  right,  that's  the  word,  if  I  know 
how  to  read.  Come,  gentlemen,  do  pray  charge  bayo 
net  !  Charge,  I  say  ! — Why  don't  you  charge  ?  Do  you 
think  it  aint  so  ?  Do  you  think  I  have  lived  to  this  time 
o'  day,  and  don't  know  what  charge  bayonet  is  ?  Here, 
come  here,  you  may  see  for  yourselves  ;  it's  plain  as  the 

nose  on  your  fa Stop — stay — no — halt !  no !     Faith 

I'm  wrong  !  I  turned  over  two  leaves  at  once.  I  beg 
your  pardon,  we  will  not  stay  out  long ;  and  we'll  have 
something  to  drink  as  soon  as  we  have  done.  Come, 
boys,  get  up  off  the  stumps  and  logs  and  take  up  your 
guns,  we'll  soon  be  done :  excuse  me  if  you  please. 
Fix  Bayonet ! 

Advance  arms  !  Very  well  done ;  turn  the  stocks  of 
your  guns  in  front,  gentlemen,  and  that  will  bring  the 
barrels  behind ;  hold  them  strait  up  and  down  if  you 
please ;  let  go  with  your  left,  and  take  hold  with  your 
right  hand  below  the  guard.  Steubeji  says  the  gun 
should  be  held  p,  e,  r,  pertic'lar — yes,  you  must  always 
mind  and  hold  your  guns  very  pertic'lar.  Now  boys, 
'tention  the  whole ! 

Present  arms  !     Very  handsomely  done !  only  hold 
your  gun  over  t'other  knee — t'other  hand  up — turn  your 


162  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

fcands  round  a  little  and  raise  them  up  higher — draw 
t'other  foot  back — now  you  are  nearly  right — very  well 
done. 

"  Gentlemen,  we  come  now  to  the  revolutions.  Men, 
you  have  all  got  into  a  sort  of  snarl,  as  I  may  say ;  how 
did  you  get  all  into  such  a  higglet  pigglety  ? 

The  fact  was,  the  shade  had  moved  considerably  to 
the  eastward,  and  had  exposed  the  right  wing  of  these 
hardy  veterans  to  a  galling  fire  of  the  sun.  Being  poor- 
ly  provided  with  umbrellas  at  this  end  of  the  line,  they 
found  it  convenient  to  follow  the  shade,  and  in  huddling 
to  the  left  for  this  purpose,  they  changed  the  figure  of 
their  line  from  that  of  a  crescent  to  one  which  more 
nearly  resembled  a  pair  of  pothooks. 

"Come,  gentlemen,"  (says  the  captain,)  "spread  your 
selves  out  again  in  a  straight  line  ;  and  let  us  get  into 
the  wheelings  and  other  matters  as  soon  as  possible." 

But  this  was  strenuously  opposed  by  the  soldiers. — 
They  objected  going  into  the  revolutions  at  all,  inasmuch 
as  the  weather  was  extremely  hot,  and  they  had  already 
been  kept  in  the  field  upwards  of  three  quarters  of  an 
hour.  They  reminded  the  captain  of  his  repeated  pro 
mise  to  be  as  short  as  he  possibly  could,  and  it  was  clear 
he  could  dispense  with  all  this  same  wheeling  and  flour 
ishing,  if  he  chose.  They  were  already  very  thirsty, 
and  if  he  would  not  dismiss  them,  they  declared  they 
would  go  off  without  dismission,  and  get  something  to 
drink,  and  he  might  fine  them  if  that  would  do  him  any 
good ;  they  were  able  to  pay  their  fine,  but  would  not 
go  without  drink  to  please  any  body;  and  they  swore 
they  would  never  vote  for  another  captain  who  wished 
to  be  so  unreasonably  strict. 

The  captain  behaved  with  great  spirit  upon  the  occa 
sion,  and  a  smart  colloquy  ensued  ;  when  at  length  be 
coming  exasperated  to  the  last  degree,  he  roundly  asser- 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   fcC. 


163 


ted  that  no  soldier  ought  ever  to  think  hard  of  the  orders 
of  his  officer ;  and,  finally,  he  went  so  far  as  to  say  that 
he  did  not  think  any  gentleman  on  that  ground  had  any 
just  cause  to  be  offended  with  him.  The  dispute  was 
finally  settled  by  the  captain  sending  for  some  grog  for 
their  present  accommodation,  and  agreeing  to  omit  read 
ing  the  military  law,  and  the  performance  of  all  the  ma 
noeuvres,  except  two  or  three  such  easy  and  simple  ones 
as  could  be  performed  within  the  compass  of  the  shade. 
After  they  had  drank  their  grog,  and  had  "spread 
themselves,"  they  were  divided  into  platoons. 

'Tention  the  whole! —To  the  right  wheel!  Each 
man  faced  to  the  right  about. 

"  Why,  gentlemen,  I  did  not  mean  for  every  man  to 
stand  still  and  turn  himself  na'trally  right  round  ;  but 
when  I  told  you  to  wheel  to  the  right,  I  intended  you  to 
wheel  round  to  the  right  as  it  were.  Please  to  try  again, 
gentlemen ;  every  right  hand  man  must  stand  fast,  and 
only  the  others  tun}  round." 

In  the  previous  part  of  the  exercise,  it  had,  for  the 
purpose  of  sizing,  been  necessary  to  denominate  every 
second  person  a  "  right  hand  man."  A  very  natural 
consequence  was,  that  on  the  present  occasion  those  right 
hand  men  maintained  their  position,  all  the  intermediate 
ones  facing  about  as  before. 

"  Why,  look  at  'em  now !"  exclaimed  the  captain,  in 

extreme  vexation — "  I'll  be  d d  if  you  understand  a 

word  1  say.  Excuse  me,  gentlemen,  it  rayly  seems  as 
if  you  could  not  come  at  it  exactly.  In  wheeling  to  the 
right,  the  right  hand  eend  of  the  platoon  stands  fast,  and 
the  other  eend  comes  round  like  a  swingletree.  Those 
on  the  outside  must  march  faster  than  those  on  the  inside. 
YotTcertainly  must  understand  me  now,  gentlemen  ;  and 
please  to  try  it  once  more." 

In  this  they  were  a  little  more  successful. 


164  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

'Tention  the  whole  !  To  the  left— left,  no— right— 
that  is,  the  left — I  mean  the  right — left  wheel,  march  ! 

In  this,  he  was  strictly  obeyed  ;  some  wheeling  to  the 
right,  some  to  the  left,  and  some  to  the  right-left,  or  botli 
ways. 

Stop  !  Halt  !  "  Let  us  try  it  again  !  I  could  not  just 
then  tell  my  right  hand  from  left !  You  must  excuse  me, 
if  you  please — experience  makes  perfect,  as  the  saying 
is.  Long  as  I  have  served,  I  find  something  new  to  learn 
every  day  ;  but  all's  one  for  that.  Now,  gentlemen,  do 
that  motion  once  more." 

By  the  help  of  a  non-commissioned  officer  in  front  of 
each  platoon,  they  wheeled  this  time  with  considerable 
regularity. 

"  Now,  boys,  you  must  try  to  wheel  by  divisions  ;  and 
there  is  one  thing  in  particular  which  I  have  to  request 
of  you,  gentlemen,  and  that  is,  not  to  make  any  blunder 
in  your  wheeling.  You  must  mind  and  keep  at  a  wheel 
ing  distance,  and  not  talk  in  the  ranks,  nor  get  out  of  fix 
again  ;  for  I  want  you  to  do  this  motion  well,  and  not  to 
make  any  blunder  now." 

5  Tention  the  whole  !  By  divisions,  to  the  right  wheel, 
march ! 

In  doing  this,  it  seemed  as  if  Bedlam  had  broke  loose : 
every  man  took  the  command.  Not  so  fast  on  the 
right ! — Slow  now  ? — Haul  down  those  umbrellas  ! — • 
Faster  on  the  left ! — Keep  back  a  little  there  ! — Don't 
sc^ouge  so  ! — Hold  up  your  gun  Sam  ! — Go  faster 

there  ! — faster !    Who  trod  on  my ?  d — -n  your 

huffls ! — Keep  back  !  Stop  us,  Captain — do  stop  us  ! 
Go  faster  there !  I've  lost  my  shoe !  Get  up  again, 
Ned !  Halt !  halt !  halt !— Stop,  gentlemen  !  stop !  stop  ! 

By  this  time  they  had  got  into  utter  and  inextricable 
confusion  and  so  I  left  them. 

TIMOTHY  CRABSHAW. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  165 

THE  TUBF. 

"  COME,"  said  my  friend  Baldwin  to  me,  a  few  months 
ago.  "  let  us  go  to  the  turf." 

"No,"  said  I,  "I  take  no  interest  in  its  amusements." 

"  Nor  do  I,"  rejoined  he ;  "  but  I  visit  it  to  acquire 
a  knowledge  of  the  human  character,  as  it  exhibits  itself 
in  the  various  scenes  of  life,  and  with  the  hope  of  turning 
the  knowledge  thus  acquired,  to  some  good  account.  I 
am  the  more  desirous  that  you  should  accompany  me," 
continued  he,  "  because,  as  one  pair  of  eyes  and  ears 
cannot  catch  all  that  passes,  within  a  scene  so  spacious, 
I  shall  loose  many  instructing,  interesting,  or  amusing 
incidents,  without  the  assistance  of  a  friend ;  and  there 
fore  I  wish  to  enlist  your  services." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  with  this  view,  I  will  accompany 
you." 

We  went ;  and  the  following  is  the  result  of  our  joint 
observations : 

We  went  early,  when  as  yet  no  one  had  reached  the 
ground  but  those  who  occupied  the  booths  for  the  purpose 
of  traffic.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before  crowds  of 
persons  of  all  ages,  sexes,  conditions  and  complexions, 
were  seen  moving  towards  the  booths ;  some  on  foot, 
some  on  horseback,  some  in  gigs,  some  in  carriages, 
some  in  carts,  and  some  in  wagons.  The  carriages, 
(generally '  filled  with  well  dressed  ladies,)  arranged 
themselves  about  thirty  or  forty  paces  from  the  starting 
point,  towards  the  centre  of  the  turf.  Around  these, 
circled  many  young  gentlemen,  each  riding  his  prettiest, 
whipping,  spurring,  and  curbing  his  horse  into  the  most 
engaging  antics,  and  giving  visible  token  that  he  thought 
every  eye  from  the  carriages  was  on  him,  and  every 
heart  overpowered  by  his  horsemanship.  As  many 
more  plied  between  the  booths  and  carriages,  bearing 


166  GEORGIA   SCENES,  fcC. 

messages,  rumors,  apples,  oranges,  raises,  lemonade, 
and  punch. 

"  But  surely  no  lady  drank  the  punch  !" 

"  Yes,  three  of  them  did  ;  and  if  I  know  what  large 
swallows  mean,  they  loved  it  too — but  they  did'nt  drink 
long.  The  ladies  ought  to  be  informed,  however,  that  a 
countryman  passing  them,  observed,  *  the  way  them  wo 
men  love  punch  is  nothing  to  nobody  !' ' 

The  gentlemen  generally  collected  about  the  booths, 
and  employed  themselves  in  loud  talking  and  drinking. 
Here  I  saw  Maj.  Close,  who  two  hours  before  declared 
he  had  not  enough  to  pay  a  poor  woman  for  the  making 
the  vest  he  had  on,  treat  a  large  company  to  a  dollar 
bowl  of  punch  ;  and,  ten  minutes  after,  I  saw  the  same 
man  stake  fifty  dollars  on  the  race.  I  saw  another  gen 
tleman  do  the  same,  who,  four  days  before,  permitted  his 
endorser  to  lift  his  note  in  bank,  for  one  hundred  dollars, 
which  note  the  endorser  still  held.  But,  thought  I,  the 
way  these  gentlemen  treat  their  creditors,  "  is  nothing  to 
nobody."  One  thing  I  remarked  upon  this  occasion, 
which  should  not  be  passed  in  silence.  I  saw  m£ny  gen- 
tlemen  drink  spirits  upon  the  turf,  whom  I  never  saw 
taste  it  any  where  else — some,  because  it  seemed  fash 
ionable  ;  and  some,  because  they  would  bet  nothing  but 
a  glass  of  toddy,  or  a  bowl  of  punch,  and  having  bet  it, 
they  must  help  drink  it. 

I  had  been  employed,  perhaps  three  quarters  of  an 
hour,  in  making  observations  upon  the  scene  which  was 
before  me,  when  I  observed  a  group  of  negroes  and  boys 
enter  one  of  the  gates  of  the  turf,  following  with  much 
seeming  interest,  a  horse  which  was  led  by  an  aged 
black,  by  whose  side  walked  a  little  negro  boy  about 
thirteen  years  of  age,  dressed  in  pink,  throughout.  I 
had  no  doubt  but  that  the  horse  was  one  which  was 
ei.tered  for  the  day's  running  ;  and  as  I  was  desirous  of 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  JcC.  167 

seeing  all  the  competitors  before  the  race,  I  advanced  to 
meet  him  apart  from  the  crowd.  As  soon  as  I  approach- 
ed  near  enough  to  distinguish  the  features  ot  the  old 
negro  who  led  the  animal,  I  discovered  that  he  was  a 
gentleman  who,  upon  that  day  at  least,  was  to  be  ap 
proached  only  with  the  most  profound  respect.  His 
step  was  martial,  his  eye  looked  directly  forward,  and 
his  countenance  plainly  indicated  that  he  had  many  deep 
things  shut  up  in  his  brain,  which  the  world  had  long 
been  trying  to  pry  into,  in  vain.  I  concluded,  however, 
that  I  might  venture  to  ask  him  a  question,  which  all  who 
had  read  the  morning's  Chronicle  could  have  answered. 
I  therefore  took  the  liberty  of  addressing  him,  as  soon 
as  he  came  near  me,  with  " old  man,  what  horse  is  that?" 
The  question  seemed  to  come  like  a  thunder-bolt  among 
his  contemplations ;  and  without  speaking  a  word,  he 
bent  upon  me  a  look  which  I  perfectly  understood  to 
mean,  "  Pray,  sir,  where  were  you  born  and  brought 
up?"  Having  been  thus  foiled  by  the  old  man,  1  re-' 
solved  to  try  my  luck  with  the  rider ;  accordingly,  I 
repeated  the  question  to  him.  He  stopt,  and  was  in  the 
act,  as  I  thought,  of  answering,  when  the  old  man  bawl 
ed  out  to  him,  in  an  angry  tone — 

"  Come  along,  you  Bill ;  never  keep  behind  you  hoss, 
when  youfus8  (first)  come  on  the  ground." 

Bill  obeyed  promptly,  and  took  his  position  by  his 
majesty,  who  observed  to  him  in  an  under  tone,  as  he 
came  along  side — 

"Never  tell  de  name  you  hoss;  it's  bad  luck." 

Bill's  confusion  plainly  showed  that  he  ought  to  have 
known  a  thing  so  obvious,  from  his  infancy.  I  was  as 
much  disconcerted  as  Bill ;  but  was  soon  relieved  by  a 
pert  little  blackmoor,  who,  rather  to  persuade  me  that  he 
was  in  all  the  secrets  of  the  turf,  than  in  charity  to  me, 
addressed  me  with — 


l&S  GEORGIA  SCENES,  &C. 

"  Master,  I'll  tell  you  what  boss  dat  is." 

"  Well,  my  boy,"  said  I,  "  what  horse  is  it  ?" 

"  He  young  Butteram,  son  o'  ok  Butteram,  dat  usen  to 
belong  to  Mr.  Swingletree." 

"  And  do  you  know  all  the  horses  that  are  going  to 
run  do-day  ?"  said  I. 

"  La,  yes  sir ;"  said  he  :  "  I  know  ebery  one  dat's 
gwine  to  run  ebery  day." 

I  concluded  I  would  take  advantage  of  the  boy's 
knowledge  ;  and  therefore  gave  him  twelve  and  a  half 
cents  to  stand  by  me,  and  give  me  the  names  of  the  racers 
as  they  past ;  for  by  this  time  they  were  all  on  the 
ground,  and  following  the  direction  of  the  first. 

"  This  one,"  said  my  Mentor,  as  the  next  approached, 
"  name  Flory  Randle  ;  she  b'long  to  Mr.  Pet ;  but  I 
don't  know  what  boss  he  daddy,  though." 

"  This  one,"  (as  the  next  came  up)  name  Sir  William  ; 
he  come  all  de  way  from  Virginy,  and  I  tink  dey  say  he 
got  by  Virginy  too." 

"  And  this,"  (as  the  last  approached)  "  name  Clipse  ; 
by  jokey,  he  look  to  me  like  he  could  clip  it  too  ;  and 
I  be  swinged  if  I  don't  go  my  seb'n-pence  on  him  any 
how." 

Thus  I  learned  that  the  four  horses  which  were  to 
run,  were  Bertrand,  Flora  Randolph,  Sir  William,  and 
Eclipse.  At  this  moment,  a  voice  from  the  Judges' 
stand  cried,  "  Prepare  your  horses  !"  and  in  an  instant 
the  grooms  were  engaged  in  saddling  the  animals.  This 
preliminary  was  soon  disposed  of,  and  the  owners  pro 
ceeded  to  give  the  riders  their  instructions. 

"Now,  Bob,"  said  Mr.  Pet,  "  I  know  that  I  have  the 
heels  of  any  horse  on  the  turf,  but  I'm  a  little  afraid  of 
my  bottom ;  therefore,  save  your  wind  as  much  as  pos 
sible.  Trail  the  leading  horse  upon  a  hard  rein,  about 
a  half  distance  behind,  until  you  come  to  the  last  half 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  fcC.  169 

mile,  and  then  let  Flora  off  at  full  speed.  As  soon  as 
you  pass  the  leading  horse  about  a  length,  bear  your 
rein,  and  don't  come  in  more  than  a  length  ahead." 

"  Sam,"  said  the  owner  of  Sir  William,  "  you've  got 
none  to  fear  but  Bertrand,  and  you've  got  the  bottom  of 
him  ;  therefore  give  him  no  rest  from  the  word  "  go !" — 
unless  you  find  that  your  heels  are  as  good  as  his  ;  and 
if  so,  you  necd'nt  waste  your  wind.  Feel  Bertrand  at 
the  first  rise  of  the  course ;  if  he  stands  it  pretty  well, 
try  how  you  can  move  with  him,  going  down  the  hill  ; 
and  if  you  find  that  you  are  too  hard  for  him,  either  at 
the  rises  or  falls,  pinch  him  hard  at  all  of  them  places — 
and  when  you  come  to  the  last  half  mile  of  each  heat, 
run  his  heart,  liver,  lights,  and  soul-case  out  of  him." 

"  Ned,"  said  the  owner  of  Eclipse,  "  you  are  not  to 
run  for  the  first  heat  at  all,  unless  you  find  you  can  take 
it  very  easy.  Let  Sir  William  take  the  first  heat. — 
You  can  beat  the  others  when  you  please,  and  William 
can't  stand  a  push  for  two  heats ;  therefore,  just  play 
along  side  of  him  handsomely,  for  the  first  three  miles, 
and  at  the  coming  in,  just  drop  in  the  distance  pole. 
The  next  heat  take  the  track,  and  press  him  from  the 
start. " 

"  Bill,"  said  the  owner  of  Bertrand,  "  do  you  take  the 
track  at  the  start,  and  keep  it,  and  run  only  just  fast 
enough  to  keep  it." 

Here  the  roll  of  the  drum,  and  a  cry  from  the  Judges' 
stand,  put  the  horses  in  motion  for  the  starting  point. 
Over  this  point,  I  now  observed  suspended  from  a  pole, 
a  beautiful  blue  silk  purse,  spangled  with  silver,  and 
embroidered  with  gold,  on  both  sides  of  which  were 
marked  in  golden  characters,  "  $500"  ! ! ! 

It  would  require  a  volume  to  describe  the  scene  which 
now  ensued.  "  Captain,  do  you  run  Bertrand  for  the 
heat  ?"  « I  do,  sir."  "  Five  hundred  dollars,  Bertrand 


170  GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C. 

against  the  field."  "Done,  sir.'5  "  Major,  will  Eclipse 
run  for  the  heat  ?"  «  No,  sir."  "  One  hundred  to  fifty, 
that  Flora  Randolph  beats  Eclipse  the  first  heat ! "  "  Done, 
sir" — "  Done,  sir" — "  Done,  sir."  "  I  took  the  bet  first." 
"  No,  sir,  I  took  it  first."  "  No  matter,  gentlemen,  I'll 
go  you  all  fifty  apiece."  "It's  a  bet,  sir" — "  It's  a 
bet" — "A  bet,  sir."  "Here,  Uncle  Sam,  hold  dese 
trups" — "  Now  mind  de  bet.  Bob,  he  bet  dat  Flory 
Randle  take  de  fus  heat.  I  bet  he  take  no  heat  at  all." 
"  Yes,  dat  de  bet — you  hear  him,  Uncle  Sam?" 

"  Tell  him  over  agin,  le'  me  listen."  "  Well,  dis  him : 
If  Florcy  take  de  fus  heat,  Bob  win — if  he  take  no  heat 
at  all,  I  win."  "Berry  well,  I  got  him  now  fass  in  my 
head." 

"  Pa,  give  me  a  quarter  to  bet."  "  What  horse  do 
you  want  to  bet  upon,  my  son  ?"  "  Eclipse."  "  Oh 
no — there's  a  quarter — bet  it  uponBertrand." 

"  Well,  Miss  Flora,  don't  you  wish  to  bet?"  "  Yes, 
sir,  I'll  bet  you  a  pair  of  gloves."  "  Well,  what  horse 
will  you  take  ?"  "  Oh,  my  namesake,  of  course."  "-It's 
a  bet — you  take  Flora  against  the  field,  of  course.'' 
"  To  be  sure  I  do." 

Thus  it  went — men,  women  and  children,  whites  and 
blacks,  all  betting. 

Such  was  the  bustle,  confusion  and  uproar  among  the 
men,  that  I  could  hardly  sec  or  hear  any  thing  distinctly  ; 
and  therefore  I  resolved  to  take  my  position  among  the 
carriages,  in  order  to  observe  the  ladies  under  the  de 
lights  of  the  turf. 

The  signal  was  now  given,  and  off  went  the  horses — 
Flora  ahead,  Bertrand  next,  Sir  William  next,  and 
Eclipse  in  the  rear. 

"  Only  look  at  that  rascal,"  said  Mr.  Pet,  as  he  charg. 
ed  by  us  at  full  speed  ;  "  how  he  is  riding.  Hold  her 
in,  you  rascal,  or  I'll  give  you  five  hundred  lashes  as 


GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C.  171 

soon  as  yeu  light — Hold  her  in,  I  tell  you,  you  abomina 
ble  puppy,  or  I'll  cut  your  throat."  Bob  did  his  best  to 
restrain  her,  for  he  bore  upon  the  rein  until  his  back  came 
nearly  in  contact  with  Flora's  ;  but  to  no  purpose. — 
Ahead  she  would  go  for  the  first  two  miles. 

"  Only  see,  mamma,"  said  Miss  Flora, lk  how  beautiful 
ly  Flora  runs  !"  "  Oh,  that  dear  little  rider,"  (a  negro,) 
"  how  handsomely  he  carries  himself.  I  knew  I  should 
win  my  gloves." 

At  the  completion  of  the  second  mile,  Flora  became 
more  manageable,  and  the  other  horses  passed  her  in 
their  order.  As  the  last  gained  about  a  length  of  her — 
«  now,"  said  Pet,  "  keep  her  at  that."  The  rider  straight- 
ened  himself  in  the  saddle,  but  the  space  widened,  percep 
tibly,  between  him  and  Eclipse.  "  Don't  bear  upon  the 
rein  so  hard,"  said  Pet.  "Let  her  play  easy . "  Bob  slack 
ened  the  rein ;  but  Flora  seemed  not  to  improve  her 
liberty.  "  Look  how  you're  dropping  behind,"  continu 
ed  Pet.  "  Let  her  out,  I  tell  you  !"  Bob  let  her  out, 
but  she  would  not  go  out.  "  Let  her  out,  I  tell  you,  or 
I  will  blow  your  brains  out."  Here  Bob  gave  her  a 
cut — "  You  infernal  rascal  you,  don't  give  her  the  whip  ! 
Bring  her  up  to  Eclipse."  Bob  gave  her  the  lash  again ; 
but  Flora  obstinately  refused  to  keep  company  with 
Eclipse.  "  Very  well,  sir,"  said  Pet,  "  ride  your  own 
way,  and  I'll  whip  mine  when  you  get  home ;  I  see  how 
it  is."  Bob  seemed  to  hear  only  the  first  member  of 
the  sentence,  and  he  gave  the  whip  without  mercy. 
"  Why,  Pet,"  said  a  gentleman,  "  what  is  the  matter 
with  Flora  to-day  ?"  "  What's  the  matter  with  her,  sir  ! 
Don't  you  see  that  I  can't  make  Bob  do  any  thing  I  tell 
him  ?  I'll  learn  him  how  to  take  a  bribe  in  future." 

As  Flora  received  the  twentieth  cut  she  switched  her 
tail.  "  Ah  !"  said  Mr.  Dimple,  "  I  fear  you've  lost  your 
gloves  Miss  Flora — see,  your  favorite  switches  her  tail." 


172  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

"Does  Flora  switch  her  tail?"  said  Miss  Flora. — 
"  Mamma,  Mr.  Dimple  says  Flora  switches  her  tail  ?" 
"  Does  Flora  Switch  her  tail  ?"  said  Mrs.  Blue.  "  Does 
Flora  switch  her  tail?"  said  Miss  Emma.  "  Oh,  what 
a  pity  !" 

The  horses  preserved  their  order  through  the  heat. 
Flora  was  distanced ;  but  her  rider  maintained  his  grace 
and  dignity  to  the  last,  and  rode  as  if  perfectly  satisfied 
that  every  eye  was  upon  him,  and  that  all  were  saying : 
"  to  be  sure  Flora  is  beaten ;  but  her  rider  is  decidedly 
the  best  on  the  ground."  In  spite  of  his  cry  of  "clear 
the  track  !"  however,  the  crowd  closed  in  between  him 
and  the  foremost  horses,  extinguished  his  graces  from 
general  view,  and  forced  him  to  come  in,  in  the  mere 
character  of  a  spectator. 

Between  the  first  and  second  heats,  I  saw  the  owners 
of  Sir  William  and  Eclipse  in  a  pleasing  conversation ; 
but  I  did  not  hear  what  they  said. 

After  a  rest  of  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  the  horses 
were  again  brought  to  the  starting  point ;  and  at  the  tap 
of  the  drum  went  off  with  great  velocity.  Bertrand  took 
the  lead  as  before,  and  William  pursued  him  very  close 
ly.  They  kept  within  two  lengths  of  each  other  for 
three  miles  and  a  half,  when  William  locked  his  adver 
sary,  and  both  riders  commenced  giving  the  whip  and 
spur  without  mercy.  When  they  came  in,  it  was  evident 
to  my  eye,  that  Bertrand's  rider  (for  1  could  not  see  the 
horses'  heads)  was  more  than  his  width  ahead  of  Wil 
liam's  ;  but  the  judges  decided  that  William  won  the 
heat  by  two  inches  and  a  quarter.  Eclipse  just  saved 
his  distance.  At  the  close  of  the  heat  the  two  former 
exhibited  a  pitiable  spectacle.  There  was  not  a  dry 
hair  upon  either  of  them,  knd  the  blood  streamed  from 
the  flanks  and  sides  of  both. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  173 

"  Mr.  Dimple,"  said  Miss  Emma,  "  which  horse  shall 
I  bet  on  next  time  ?  Which  seems  the  most  distressed  ?" 

"  I  declare,  Miss,"  said  Dimple,  "  I  don't  know — they 
both  seem  to  be  very  much  distressed  ;  but  I  think  Wil 
liam  seems  to  be  in  rather  the  worse  plight." 

Between  this  and  the  following  heat,  two  little  boys 
engaged  in  a  fight,'  and  not  less  than  fifty  grown  men 
gathered  around  them  to  witness  the  conflict,  with  as 
great  an  uproar  as  if  a  town  were  on  fire.  This  fight 
produced  two  more  between  grown  persons  ;  one  of 
whom  was  carried  from  the  turf  with  a  fractured  scull, 
as  it  was  thought,  from  the  blow  of  a  stick.  But  none  of 
the  ladies  went  to  the  fights. 

Again  the  horses  were  brought  up  and  put  off.  Ber- 
trand  once  more  led  the  way,  and  Eclipse  followed  close 
at  his  heels,  for  about  a  mile  and  three  quarters,  when 
William  ran  up  under  whip,  nose  and  tail  to  Bertrand. 
Eclipse  fell  some  distance  behind,  and  continued  so  for  a 
mile  and  a  half,  when  he  came  up  and  nearly  locked 
Bertrand.  Thus  they  ran  three  fourths  of  the  remain 
ing  distance.  On  the  last  stretch  they  came  side  to  side, 
and  so  continued  through.  On  this  heat,  I  concurred 
with  the  judges,  that  it  was  a  draw  race.  William  was 
double  distanced. 

Bertrand  and  Eclipse  put  off  upon  the  fourth  heat : 
Bertrand  still  taking  the  lead  by  about  half  his  length. 
Eclipse  now  pushed  for '  the  track  ;  but  Bertrand  main 
tained  it.  For  two  miles  did  the  riders  continue  so  close 
together  that  they  might  have  joined  hands.  They  had 
entered  upon  the  third  mile  in  this  way,  when  at  the  first 
turn  of  the  course  from  the  judges-  stand,  Eclipse  fell  and 
killed  his  rider.  Bertrand  being  now  left  without  a 
competitor,  galloped  slowly  round  to  the  goal,  where 
with  great  pomp  and  ceremony,  the  pole  which  held  the 
purse  was  bent  down  to  his  rider,  who  dislodged  it,  and 


174  GEORGIA   SCENES,   kC. 

bore  it  on  high,  backwards  and  forwards,  in  front  of  the 
booth,  to  the  sound  of  drum,  fife  and  violin. 

"  I  declare,"  said  Mrs.  Blue,  as  her  carriage  wheeled 
off,  "  had  it  not  been  for  that  little  accident,  the  sport 
would  have  been  delightful." 

I  left  the  turf  in  company  with  a  large  number  of  gen 
tlemen,  all  of  whom  concurred  in  the  opinion,  that  they 
had  never  witnessed  such  sport  in  all  their  lives.  "  What 
a  pity  it  is,"  said  General  Grubbs,  "  that  this  amusement 
is  not  more  encouraged !  We  never  shall  have  a  fine 
breed  of  horses  until  the  turf  is  more  patronized." 

I  returned  home,  and  had  been  seated  perhaps  an 
hour,  when  Baldwin  entered.  "Well,"  said  he,  "1 
have  just  been  favored  with  a  sight  of  the  contents  of 
that  beautiful  purse  which  Bertrand  won — and  what  do 
you  think  it  contained  ?" 

"  Why,  five  hundred  dollars,  certainly,"  returned  I. 

"  No,"  continued  he,  "  it  contained  two  half  eagles, 
sixteen  dollars  in  silver,  twelve  one  dollar  bills,  and  a 
subscription  paper,  which  the  owner  offered  to  the  largest 
subscriber  on  it,  for  one  hundred  and  ,  fifty  dollars,  and 
it  was  refused.  It  is  but  right  to  observe,  however,  that 
the  gentleman  to  whom  the  offer  was  made  assured  the 
owner  that  it  was  as  good  as  gold." 

HALL. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 
AX  INTERESTING  INTERVIEW. 

1  hope  the  day  is  not  far  distant,  when  drunkenness 
will  be  unknown  in  our  highly  favored  country.  The 
moral  world  is  rising  in  its  strength  against  the  all- 
destroying  vice,  and  though  the  monster  still  struggles, 
and  stings,  and  poisons,  with  deadly  effect,  in  many  parts 
of  our  wide  spread  territory,  it  is  perceptibly  wounded 
and  weakened  ;  and  I  flatter  myself,  if  I  should  live  to 
number  ten  years  more,  I  shall  see  it  driven  entirely, 
from  the  higher  walks  of  life  at  least,  if  not  from  all 
grades  of  society.  For  the  honor  of  my  contempora 
ries,  I  would  register  none  of  its  crimes  or  its  follies ; 
but,  in  noticing  the  peculiarities  of  the  age  in  which  I 
live,  candor  constrains  me  to  give  this  vice  a  passing 
notice.  The  interview  which  I  am  about  to  present  to  my 
readers,  exhibits  it  in  its  mildest  and  most  harmless  forms. 

In  the  county  of ,  and  about  five  miles 

apart,  lived  old  Hardy  Slow  and  old  Tobias  Swift — 
They  were  both  industrious,  honest,  sensible  farmers, 
when  sober ;  but  they  never  visited  their  county -town, 
without  getting  drunk  ;  and  then  they  were precise 
ly  what  the  following  narrative  makes  them. 

They  both  happened  at  the  Court  House  on  the  same 
day,  when  I  last  saw  them  together ;  the  former  accom 
panied  by  his  wife,  and  the  latter  by  his  youngest  son,  a 
lad  about  thirteen.  Tobias  was  just  clearly  on  the 
wrong  side  of  the  line,  which  divides  drunk  from  sober ; 
but  Hardy  was  "  royally  corned"  (but  not  falling)  when 
they  met,  about  an  hour  by  sun  in  the  afternoon,  near 
the  rack  at  which  both  their  horses  were  hitched. 

They  stopped  about  four  feet  apart,  and  looked  each 
other  full  in  the  face  for  about  half  a  minute ;  during  all 
which  time,  Toby  sucked  his  teeth,  winked,  and  made 
signs  with  his  shoulders  and  elbows  to  the  by-standers 


176  GEORGIA   SCENES,  IcC. 

that  he  knew  Hardy  was  drunk,  and  was  going  to  quiz 
him  for  their  amusement.     In   the   meantime,    Hardy 
looked  at  Tobias,  like  a  polite  man  dropping  to  sleep  in 
spite  of  himself,  under  a  long  dull  story. 
At  length  Toby  broke  silence : 
"  How  goes  it,  uncle  Hardy  ?"    (winking  to  the  com 
pany  and  shrugging  his  shoulders.) 

«  Why,  Toby ! — is  that  you  ?  Well — upon  my— why, 
Toby  ! Lord — help — my — soul  and Why,  To 
by  !  what,  in,  the,  worP,  set,  you,  to,  gitt'n,  drunk — this, 
time  o'  day  ?  Swear,  poin'  blank,  you're  drunk  !  Why — • 
you — must  be,  an  old,  fool — to,  get,  drunk,  right,  before, 

all  these,  gentlemen a'ready,  Toby." 

"  Well,  but,  now  you  see,  (winking)  uncle  Hardy,  a 
gill-cup  an't  a  quart-pot,  nor  a  quart-pot  an't  a  two 
gallon  jug;  and  therefore,  (winking  and  chuckling) 
uncle  Hardy,  a  thing  is  a  thing,  turn  it  which  way  you 
will,  it  just  sticks  at  what  it  was  before  you  give  it  first 
ex — ex — ploit." 

«  Well,  the,  Lord,  help,  my Why,  Toby !  what, 

is  the  reas'n,  you,  never,  will,  answer,  me  this,  one — 

circumstance and,  that,  is 1,  always,  find,  you, 

drunk,  when,  I  come,  here." 

"Well,  now,  but  uncle  Hardy,  you  always  know 
circumstances  alters  cases,  as  the  fellow  said  ;  and  there 
fore,  if  one  circumstance  alters  another  circumstance 

how's  your  wife  and  children  ?" 
"  I,  swear,  poin'  blank,  I  shan't  tell  you — because,  you 
r'ally,  is,  too  drunk,  to  know,  my  wife,  when,  you,  meet, 
her,  in  the  street,  all,  day,  long,  and,  she'll,  tell,  you,  the, 
very,  same,  thing,  as,  all,  these,  gentlemen,  can — testi 
mony." 

"  Well,  but  now  you  see,  uncle  Hardy,  thinking's  one 
thing  and  knowing's  another,  as  the  fellow  said ;  and  the 
proof  o'  the  pudding's  chawin'  the  bag,  as  the  fellow 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  177 

Said  ;  and  you  see — toll-doll-diddle-de-doll-doll-day, 
(singing  and  capering)  you  think  I  can't  dance J  Come, 
uncle  Hardy,  let's  dance." 

"  Why,  Toby ! — you — come — to  this  ?  /  did'nt  make, 
you,  drunk,  did  1  ?  You,  an't,  took,  a  drink,  with,  me, 
this,  live,  long,  day — is  you  ?  I,  say,  is  you,  Toby  ?" 

"  No,  uncle  Har — " 

"Well,  then,  let's  go,  take  a  drink.'1 

"  Well,  but  you  see,  uncle  Hardy,  drinkin's  drinkin' ; 
but  that's  neither  here  nor  there,  as  the  fellow  said. 

"  Come  (singing}  all  ye  young  sparkers,  come  listen  to  me, 
And  I'll  sing  you  a  ditti,  of  a  pretti  ladee." 

«  Why,  Toby !  ha — ha — ha — Well,  I  r'alty,  did,  think, 

you,  was,  drunk,  but,  now  I  believe blast  the  flies  ! 

I  b'lieve,  they,  jest,  as  li'f,  walk,  in  my,  mouth,  as,  in, 
my  nose."  (  Then  looking  with  eyes  half  closed  at  Toby 
for  several  minutes,)  "  Why,  Toby,  you,  spit  'bacoo 
spit,  all  over,  your  jacket — and,  that's  jist,  the  very, 
way,  you,  got,  hi  your fix." 

At  this  moment,  Mrs.  Slow  came  up,  and  immediately 
after,  Swift's  son,  William. 

"  Come,"  said  the  good  lady,  "  old  man,  let's  go 
home ;  it's  getting  late,  and  there's  a  cloud  rising  ;  we*ll 
get  wet." 

"  Why,  Nancy  !  what  in  the  worl'  has  got  into  you  ! 
Is  you  drunk  too  ?  Well,  'pon,  my  word,  and  honor,  I, 
b'lieve,  every  body,  in  this  town,  is,  got  drunk  to-day. 
Why,  Nancy !  I  never,  did,  see,  you,  in,  that  fix,  before, 
in,  all,  my,  live,  long,  born,  days.'* 

"Well,  never  mind,"  said  she,  "come,  let's  go  home. 
Don't  you  see  the  rain  coming  up  ?" 

"  Well,  will,  it  rain,  upon,  my,  corn-field,  or  my  cot 
ton-patch?  Say,  Nancy  !  which  one,  will  it,  rain  on? 
But,  Lord,  help,  my,  soul,  you  are,  too  drunk,  to  tell  me, 
o2 


178  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

any,  thing,  about  it.  Don't  my  corn  want  rain,  Nancy  ? 
Now,  jist,  tell  me,  that  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  let's  go  home." 

"  Then,  why,  upon,  the  face,  of  the  earth,  won't  you, 
let  it,  rain,  then?  1,  rather, it,  should  rain,  than  not." 

"  Come,  old  man,"  said  several  by-standers,  touched 
with  sympathy  for  the  good  lady,  "  come  get  on  your 
horse  and  go  home,  and  we  will  help  you." 

"  Oh  yes,  uncle  Hardy,"  said  Tobias,  affecting  to 
throw  all  humor  aside,  and  to  become  very  sober  all  at 
once,  "  go  home  with  the  old  woman — Come,  gentlemen 
let's  help  'em  on  their  horses — they're  groggy — mighty' 
groggy.  Come,  old  man,  I'll  help  you."  (staggering 
to  Hardy.) 

"Jist  look  at  daddy  now  !"  said  Billy  ;  "  he's  going 
to  help  Mr.  Swift,  and  he's  drunk  as  Mr.  Swift  is.  Oh, 
daddy,  come,  let's  go  home,  or  we'll  getmazin' wet." 

Toby  stooped  down  to  help  Hardy  on  his  horse,  (be- 
fore  the  horse  was  taken  from  the  rack,)  and  throwing 
his  arm  round  Hardy's  legs,  he  fell  backwards,  and  so 
did  Hardy. 

"Why — Lord,  bless,  my,  soul,"  said  Hardy,  "I 
b'lieve  I'm  drunk  too.  What,  upon  the,  face,  of  the 
earth,  has  got,  into,  all,  of  us,  this  day  !" 

"  Why,  uncle  Hardy,"  said  Toby,  "  you  pull  us  both 
down  together."  "  The  old  man's  mighty  groggy,"  said 
Toby  to  me,  in  a  half  whisper,  and  with  an  arch  wink 
and  smile,  as  he  rose  up,  (I  happening  to  be  next  to  him 
at  the  moment,)  "  S'pose  we  help  him  up  and  get  him  off. 
The  old  woman's  in  for  it  too,"  continued  he ;  winking, 
nodding,  and  shrugging  up  his  shoulders  very  signifi 
cantly. 

"  Oh  no,"  said  I,  "  the  old  woman  is  perfectly  so- 
ber,  and  I  never  heard  of  her  tasting  a  drop  in  all  my 
life." 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  179 

"  Oh,"  said  Toby,  assuming  the  gravity  of  a  parson, 
"  loves  it  mightily,  mightily  ! — Monstrous  woman  for 
drinking ! — at  least  that's  my  opinion.  Monstrous  fine 
woman  though !  monstrous  fine  !" 

"  Oh,  daddy,  for  the  Lord's  sake  let's  go  home ;  only 
see  what  u  rain  is  coming!"  said  Billy. 

"  Daddy  '11  go  presently  my  son.*" 

"  Well  here's  your  horse,  git  up  and  let's  go.  Mam 
my  '11  fee  sure  to  be  sendin'  for  us." 

"Don't  mind  him,"  said  Toby,  winking  to  me ;  "he's 
nothing  but  a  boy  ;  I  would'nt  take  no  notice  of  what  he 
said.  He  want's  me  (winking  and  smiling)  to  go  home 
with  him  ;  now  you  listen." 

"  Well,  come,"  said  I  to  uncle  Toby,  "get  on  your 
horse,  and  go  home,  a  very  heavy  rain  is  coming  up." 

"  I'll  go  presently,  but  you  just  listen  to  Bill,"  said 
he  to  me,  winking  and  smiling. 

"Oh,  daddy,  for  the  Lord's  sake  let's  go  home." 

Toby  smiled  archly  at  me,  and  winked. 

tl  Daddy,  are  you  going  home  or  not  ?  Jist  look  at 
the  rain  comin'." 

Toby  smiled  and  winked. 

"  Well,  I  do  think  a  drunken  man  is  the  biggest  fool 
in  the  county,"  said  Bill,  "  I  don't  care  who  he  is." 

"Bill!"  said  the  old  man,  very  sternly,  "  'honor  thy 
father  and  mother,'  that — that  the  woman's  seed  may 
bruise  the  serpent's  head." 

"  Well,  daddy,  tell  me  if  you  won't  go  home  !  You 
see  it's  going  to  rain  powerful.  If  you  won't  go,  may 
I  go?" 

"  Bill !  *  Leave  not  thy  father  who  begat  thee ;  for 
thou  art  my  beloved  son  Esau,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased.'  " 

"  Why,  daddy,  it's  dropping  rain  now." — Here  Bill 
was  relieved  from  his  anxiety  by  the  appearance  of 


180  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

Aaron,  a  trusty  servant,  whom  Mrs.  Slow  had  despatch, 
ed  for  his  master,  to  whose  care  Bill  committed  him, 
and  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

Aaron's  custom  had  long  been  to  pick  up  his  master 
without  ceremony,  put  him  on  his  horse,  and  bear  him 
away.  So  used  to  this  dealing  had  Toby  been,  that 
when  he  saw  Aaron,  he  surrendered  at  discretion,  and 
was  soon  on  the  road.  But  as  the  rain  descended  in 
torrents,  before  even  Bill  could  have  proceeded  half  a 
mile,  the  whole  of  them  must  have  been  drenched  to 
the  skin. 

As  to  Hardy,  whom  in  the  proper  order  we  ought  to 
have  disposed  of  first,  he  was  put  on  his  horse  by  main 
force ;  and  was  led  off  by  his  wife,  to  whom  he  was 
muttering  as  far  as  1  could  hear  him — "  Why,  Nancy  ! 
How,  did,  you,  get,  in,  such  a  fix  ?  Youl'll,  fall,  off,  your, 
horse,  sure,  as  you're  borne,  and  I'll  have  to  put  you  up 
again."  As  they  were  constrained  to  go  in  a  walk, 
they  too  must  have  got  wringing  wet,  though  they  had  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  the  start  of  Toby. 

HALL. 


THE  FOX  HFXT. 

I  had  often  read  of  the  fox  chase,  and  its  soul-enliven- 
ing  pleasures,  before  I  was  permitted  to  enjoy  them; 
and  had  my  reading  upon  this  head  been  confined  to 
Somerville's  Chase  alone,  I  should  have  been  inspired 
with  an  irrepressible  curiosity  to  experience  its  thrilling 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  181 

enjoyments.     Listen  how  he   sanctifies  the  sport,  and 
mingles  with  it  all  that  is  gay  and  spirit-stirring  : — 

"  But  yet,  alas  !  the  wily  iox  remained 
A  subtle,  pilfering  foe,  prowling  around 
In  midnight  shades,  and  wakeful  to  destroy. 
In  the  full  fold,  the  poor  defenceless  lamb, 
Seized  by  his  guileful  arts,  with  sweet  warm  blood 
Supplies  a  rich  repast.    The  mournful  ewe, 
Her  dearest  treasure  lost  through  the  dim  night, 
Wanders  perplex' d  and  darkling  bleats  in  vain, 
While  in  th'  adjacent  bush,  poor  Philomel 
(Herself  a  parent  once,  till  wanton  churls 
Despoil'd  her  nest, )  joins  in  her  loud  laments, 
With  sweeter  notes,  and  more  melodious  woe. 

For  these  nocturnal  thieves,  huntsmen  prepare 
This  sharpest  vengeance.    Oh  !  how  glorious  'tis 
To  right  th'  oppress'd,  and  bring  the  felon  vile 
To  just  disgrace !    Ere  yet  the  morning  peep 
Or  stars  retire  from  the  first  blush  of  day, 
With  thy  far  echoing  voice  alarm  thy  pack 
And  rouse  thy  bol  J  compeers.    Then  to  the  copse 
Thick  with  entangling  grass,  and  prickly  furze, 
With  silence  lead  thy  many  colour'd  hounds, 
In  all  their  beauty's  pride.    See !  how  they  range 
Dispersed,  how  busily  this  way,  and  that, 
They  cross,  examining  with  curious  nose 
Each  likely  haunt.    Hark !  on  the  drag  I  hear 
Their  doubtful  notes,  preluding  to  the  cry 
More  nobly  full,  and  swell'd  with  every  mouth. 


Heavens !  what  melodious  strains  !  how  beat  our  hearts 
Big  with  tumultuous  joy !  the  loaded  gales 
Breathe  harmony ;  and  as  the  tempest  drives 
From  wood  to  wood,  through  every  dark  recess, 
The  forest  thunders  and  the  mountain's  shake 

*  *      v--*"  -^  i   *'        *          *          *          * 

*  *  *  *  *        he  breaks  away. 
Shrill  horns  proclaim  his  flight.    Each  straggling  hound 
Strains  o'er  the  lawn  to  reach  the  distant  pack  : 

'Tis  triumph  all  and  joy.    Now,  my  brave  youths, 
Now  give  a  loose  to  the  clean  generous  steed ; 
flourish  the  whip  nor  spare  the  galling  spw  ; 
But  in  the  madness  of  delight,  forget 


182  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

Your  fears.    For  o'er  the  reeky  hills  we  range 
And  dangerous  our  course  ;  but  in  the  brave 
True  courage  never  fails.    In  vain  the  stream 
In  foaming  eddies  whirls ;  in  vain  the  ditch 
Wide-gaping  threatens  death.    The  craggy  steep 
Where  the  poor  dizzy  shepherd  crawls  with  care 
And  clings  to  every  twig,  gives  us  no  pain ; 
But  down  we  sweep,  as  stoops  the  falcon  bold 
To  pounce  his  prey." 

Filled  with  such  ideas  as  these  lines  are  calculated  to 
inspire,  (and  long  as  is  the  extract,  it  does  but  half  jus- 
tice  to  the  poet,  whatever  we  may  think  of  his  subject,) 
it  was  with  kindling  enthusiasm  that  I  met  the  question 
from  my  old  friend  Dause,  on  a  clear,  chill,  December's 
evening,  "Will  you  not  join  us  in  a  fox  chase  to- 
morrow  ?" 

"  That  I  will,"  replied  I,  "  with  pleasure." 

"  Have  you  ever  been  in  a  fox  chase  ?"  continued  he. 
"  Never,"  said  I ;  "  but  I  have  no  doubt,  but  that  1  should 
be  delighted  with  it." 

"Oh,  it's  the  finest  sport  in  the  world,  with  a  full  pack ! 
and  we  shall  have  a  splendid  pack  to-morrow.  Major 
Crocket  is  coming  in  with  his  hounds,  and  George  Hurt 
Is  to  bring  in  his,  and  all  unite  with  Capt.  Reid's  here  ; 
and  we  shall  have  a  pack  of  twenty -two  or  three.  We 
shall  have  glorious  sport — you  must  not  fail  to  join  us." 

"  No  fear  of  that,"  said  I,  "  I  shall  be  among  the  first 
on  the  ground." 

I  went  home,  (no  matter  where,)  and  hastened  to  bed 
at  an  earlier  hour  than  usual,  that  I  might  be  the  surer 
to  rise  by  times  in  the  morning. — But,  so  bright  was  the 
anticipation  of  the  coming  joys,  that  it  was  long  before  I 
could  compose  myself  to  sleep ;  and  when  I  did,  it  was 
rather  the  semi-sleep  of  vigilance,  than  the  sound  sleep 
of  rest.  It  was  sufficient,  however,  to  beguile  the  inter 
vening  hours  ;  and  they  seemed  but  few,  before  the  long 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  183 

drawn  notes  of  Crocket's  horn  roused  me  from  my 
slumbers.  I  sprang  from  my  bed — and  without  waiting 
to  throw  over  me  a  stitch  of  clothing,  (though  the  wea 
ther  was  extremely  cold,)  I  seized  my  little  ram's-horn, 
hoisted  a  window,  and  blew  a  blast,  which,  if  it  had  had 
fair  play,  would  have  waked  every  hound  within  five 
miles  round.  But  it  had  not  fair  play  ;  for,  partly  from 
hurry,  and  partly  from  my  indisposition  to  thrust  my  ex 
posed  body  into  the  open  air,  I  just  gave  the  mouth  of 
my  horn  projection  enough  to  throw  half  its  voice  out 
and  half  inside  the  house.  The  first  half  did  no  great 
things  ;  but  the  last  half,  did  wonders.  Bursting  upon 
the  unsuspecting  family,  at  that  still  hour,  it  created  a 
sensation  which  no  one  can  understand,  who  was  not  at 
the  falling  of  the  walls  of  Jericho.  The  house  trembled, 
the  glasses  rattled,  the  women  started,  and  the  children 
screamed. 

"  What's  that !"  exclaimed  the  mistress  of  the  house- 
hold. 

"  Mr.  Hall's  going  a  fox  hunting,"  said  her  husband. 

"  Well,  I  wish  he'd  blow  for  his  foxes  out  of  the  house. 
I  can't  see  what  any  man  of  common  sense  wants  to  be 
gitting  up  this  time  of  night  for,  in  such  cold  weather, 
just  to  hear  dogs  run  a  fox." 

It  struck  me,  there  was  a  good  deal  of  sound  philoso 
phy  in  the  good  lady's  remarks ;  but  she  was  a  woman, 
and  she  had  never  read  Somerville. 

I  dressed  myself,  walked  out,  waked  my  servant  and 
ordered  my  horse.  Truly  it  was  a  lovely  morning,  for 
the  season  of  the  year :  December  never  ushered  in  one 
more  lovely — Like  a  sheet  of  snow,  the  frost  overspread 
the  earth  !  Not  a  breath  was  stirring — The  coming 
huntsman  had  sounded  his  horn  upon  a  distant  hill,  and 
its  un repeated  notes  had  died  away.  A  cloudless  sky 
o'erspread  the  earth — as  rich  in  beauty  as  ever  won  the 


184  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

gaze  of  mortal.  Upon  the  western  verge,  in  all  his 
martial  glory,  stood  Orion ;  his  burnished  epaulets  and 
spangled  sash,  with  unusual  brightness  glowing.  Ca- 
pella  glittered  brighter  still,  and  Castor,  Procyion  and 
Arcturus,  rivalled  her  in  lustre.  But  Sirius  reigned  the 
monarch  of  the  starry  host ;  and  countless  myriads  of 
lesser  lights,  glowed,  and  sparkled,  and  twinkled,  o'er 
all  the  wide  spread  canopy.  "  Oh  !"  exclaimed  I,  "  how 
rich,  how  beautiful,  how  glorious  the  firmament !"  See  ! 
yonder  is  Bootes  in  the  chase  !  His  Chara  and  Asterion 
drive  on  the  lusty  Bear  !  who  shall  condemn  the  chase, 
when  its  pleasures  are  written  in  characters  of  deathless 
fire,  upon  the  face  of  the  heavens  ! 

I  was  lost  in  admiration  of  the  splendors  which  sur 
rounded  me,  when  another  sound  of  the  Major's  horn 
informed  me  that  he  was  upon  the  confines  of  the  village ; 
and,  at  the  same  instant,  my  servant  announced  that  my 
horse  was  in  waiting.  As  1  approached  him  for  the 
purpose  of  mounting,  "  Master,"  said  my  servant,  "  you 
gwine  fox  huntin'  on  da  hose  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  I  promptly  :  "  why  ?" 

"  Eh-eh,"  rejoined  he,  with  a  titter. 

"  Why,  what  is  it  amuses  you  so,  Isaac  ?" 

"  Bess  de  Lord  !  Smooth-tooth  wa'nt  never  made  for 
fox  huntin',  I  know.  He  too  lazy,  bess  de  Lord.  Time 
de  houn'  give  one  squall,  dey  done  leff  Smooth-tooth 
clean  outen  sight  an'  hearin'." 

"  O,  I  presume  not,  Isaac,"  said  I.  "  I  shall  not  at 
tempt  to  keep  up  with  the  hounds  :  I  shall  just  keep  in 
full  hearing  of  them  by  cutting  across  and  heading  them." 

"  Eh-eh !  Fox  run  twice  round  a  field  'fore  Smooth- 
tooth  cut  across  him,  I  know :  bess  de  Lord." 

One  would  suppose  that  Isaac's  hint  would  have  re 
minded  me  to  take  a  whip  or  spur,  or  both,  along  with 
me  ;  but  it  did  not. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  185 

Crocket's  horn  was  answered  by  several  from  the 
neighboring  hills,  and  before  1  proceeded  the  eighth  of  a 
mile  towards  the  point  of  rendezvous,  a  loud  chorus  of 
horns  and  beagles  announced  that  all  were  assembled  but 
myself.  1  raised  my  ram's  horn  and  blew  a  more  pro 
pitious  blast  than  my  first,  in  token  that  I  was  on  my 
way.  My  horse,  as  the  reader  has  perhaps  conjectured, 
from  the  colloquy  just  repeated,  was  not  Somerville's 
"  clean,  generous  steed ;"  but  he  was  ahorse  of  uncom 
mon  gravity  and  circumspection.  I  gave  him  the  name 
of  Smooth-tooth,  simply  because  when  he  became  my 
property,  the  faces  of  his  teeth  were,  generally,  worn 
smooth.  Though  he  was  kind  and  accommodating 
enough,  in  all  matters  of  business,  he  had  an  utter  aver 
sion  to  every  thing  like  levity,  and  to  all  rambles  which 
seemed  to  have  no  definite  object*.  Age  had  done  much, 
doubtless,  in  sobering  Smooth-tooth's  temper ;  but  in 
firmity  had  conspired  with  age  to  produce  this  effect ;  for 
he  was  most  lamentably  deaf:  so  that  the  common  re 
mark  of  our  State  in  relation  to  aged  horses,  "  he  has 
heard  it  thunder  too  often,"  would  by  no  means  have 
applied  to  Smoth-tooth  ;  for  to  my  certain  knowledge  he 
had  not  heard  it  thunder  for  five  years  at  least. 

I  bent  my  course  towards  the  village,  and  as  Smooth- 
tooth  was  wholly  unconscious  of  the  uproar  there,  he  set 
out  as  usual  upon  a  gentle  pace.  By  a  diligent  applica 
tion  of  heels,  I  signified  to  him  that  I  looked  for  some 
thing  more  sprightly  upon  this  occasion.  Smooth-tooth 
took  the  hint,  and  mended  his  pace  ;  but  I  informed  him 
as  before,  that  this  would  not  do. — He  then  paced  brisk 
er  still ;  but  this  did  not  abate  my  rigor. — He  then  paced 
to  the  top  of  his  speed,  and  finding  me  still  unsatisfied, 
he  struck,  most  reluctantly,  into  a  lazy  canter.  This 
reduced  my  beats  from  triple  to  common  time,  but  did 
not  bring  them  to  a  full  pause.  At  the  end  of  five  long, 
P 


186  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

awkward,  reluctant  lopes,  Smooth-tooth  stopped  with  a 
demi-semiquaver  rest,  and  wheeled  at  the  same  instant 
to  go  home,  in  utter  disgust ;  for  he  seemed  now  to  have 
satisfied  himself  that  I  had  taken  leave  of  my  senses, 
and  that  it  was  high  time  for  him  to  "  throw  himself 
upon  his  reserved  rights."  As  I  always  entertained  a 
high  respect  for  these,  1  accommodated  myself  to  his 
views,  after  having  discovered  that  he  was  not  to  be 
forced  out  of  them.  There  was,  however,  some  policy 
mixed  with  my  clemency  ;  for  slowly  as  Smooth -tooth 
moved  in  his  master  effort,  he  waked  up  an  artificial 
breeze,  which  seemed  to  search  the  very  cavities  of  my 
bones ;  and  which  already  produced  some  unacknowledg 
ed  yearnings  for  the  comfortable  bed  which  I  had  deserted. 

When  I  reached  the  village,  I  found  all  the  huntsmen 
collected  ;  and  after  a  little  delay,  occasioned  by  a  dog 
fight — or  rather  a  fight  of  one  dog  against  all  the  rest, 
(for  hounds,  like  the  wiley  politicians  of  the  present  day, 
all  jump  on  the  undermost,)  we  moved  forward  to  the 
hunting  ground.  This  lay  three  miles  from,  the  village, 
and  could  any  thing  have  enlivened  the  jaunt,  my  com 
pany  would  ;  for  it  consisted  of  a  merry  group  of  every 
variety  of  disposition.  But  a  freezing  man  cannot  be 
lively  ;  and  consequently  1  was  not. 

Our  pack  consisted  of  eighteen  or  twenty  hounds  ;  but 
there  were  but  two  of  them,  which  could  be  relied  on 
with  confidence — George  Hurt's  Louder,  and  Captain 
Reid's  Rome.  With  these  I  was  well  acqainted,  having 
often  been  with  them  in  the  deer  and  rabbit  hunt.  Could 
I  say,  like  Horace,  "  exigi  monumentum  cere  perennius" 
they  should  be  immortalized  ;  for  better  dogs  never  min 
gled  in  the  chase.  They  knew  perfectly  well,  from  the 
hour  of  the  hunt,  and  the  equipments  of  the  huntsmen, 
the  game  of  which  they  were  in  pursuit ;  and  nd  other 
would  they  notice. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  187 

Capt.  Reid's  Music  was  said  to  be  remarkable  "  cold ;" 
but  her  veracity  was  questionable.  Her  ambition  never 
aimed  at  any  thing  higher  than  finding  the  track,  for 
fleeter  footed  hounds.  When  the  game  was  up,  she 
soon  "knocked  out"  and  went  inquest  of  cold  trails; 
why,  or  wherefore,  no  one  could  tell — unless  it  was  that 
she  had  the  common  fault  of  those  who  possess  peculiar 
accomplishments.  Her  habit  was,  to  get  a  trail,  and  if 
she  could  not  lead  oif  on  it  readily,  to  "open"  by  the  half 
hour  upon  so  much  of  it  as  lay  within  the  compass  of 
three  rods  square. 

We  had  proceeded  about  two  miles  on  our  way,  when, 
in  a  washed  field  to  our  right,  Music  opened. 

"  What  dog's  that  ?"  inquired  several  voices  at  once. 

"It's  Music,"  said  the  Captain;  "she's  the  coldest 
hound  of  the  pack." 

The  majority  were  for  moving  on,  regardless  of  Mu 
sic's  cry  ;  but,  in  courtesy  to  the  Captain,  who  had  more 
confidence  in  her  than  the  rest  of  us,  we  agreed  "  to  wait 
on  her  a  little." 

"  Speak  to  him,  Music  !"  said  the  Captain. 

Music  opened  again. 

"  Try  for  him,  Music." 

Music  opened  again. 

"  Let's  go  to  her,"  said  the  Captain ;  "  there's  not  much 
confidence  to  be  placed  in  her,  but  it  may  be  a  fox." 

We  went,  and  as  soon  as  Music  saw  us  she  seemed 
highly  delighted  at  our  attentions — ran  into  a  little  gul 
ly — put  her  nose  to  the  ground — seemed  in  doubt — 
rooted  in  the  dirt  a  little  way — then  raised  her  head — 
paused  a  second,  and  trotted  round  a  circle  of  ten  yards 
circumference,  opening  all  the  time  as  if  the  whole  hori 
zon  was  lined  with  foxes — that  is,  as  though  there  were 
an  abundance  of  foxes  about,  but  they  were  a  long 
way  off. 


188  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

"  Try  for  him  again,  Music  !"  said  the  Captain.  Mu 
sic  fidgetted  about  with  great  animation,  shook  her  tail 
spiritedly,  and  after  taking  a  sweep  of  sixty  feet,  returned 
to  the  gully,  and  did  as  before. 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  too  cold,"  said  the  Captain. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Colonel  Peyton,  waggishly ;  let's  watt 
on  her.  'Bundance  o'  foxes  in  that  gully — only  give 
Music  time,  and  she'll  fill  it  full  o'  dead  foxes  before 
sunrise." 

"  I  reckon,"  said  Stewart  Andrews,  in  a  long  drawl- 
ing  dry  way,  "  that  Music  has  got  upon  a  '  Miss  Mary 
Ann'  that  went  along  there  last  winter." 

The  reader  must  here  be  informed,  that  when  I  went 
into  the  neighborhood  of  which  I  have  been  speaking, 
the  common  appellation  of  the  rabbit,  was  "  Molly  Cot 
ton-tail,"  as  it  still  is,  elsewhere  in  Georgia ;  but,  as  I 
thought  this  inelegant,  if  not  vulgar,  1  prevailed  upon 
my  fellow-huntsmen  to  exchange  it  for  a  more  classic 
term,  which  would  preserve  the  sense,  without  offending 
the  most  squeamish  delicacy.  At  my  suggestion,  there 
fore,  it  was  called  the  "  Mary  Cotton-tail,"  and  after 
wards,  by  further  refinement,  "  Miss  Mary  Ann  Cotton 
tail." — But  to  return  : 

We  were  just  about  taking  leave  of  Music,  when  a 
young,  awkward,  overgrown  hound,  trotted  up  to  her 
assistance.  He  arrived  just  as  Music  had  paid  a  third 
visit  to  the  track  in  the  gully,  and  as  soon  as  she  left  it, 
he  put  his  nose  to  the  spot,  snuffed  a  little,  and  then 
raised  one  foot,  and  with  it  kindly  scratched  out  the 
tantalizing  track.  While  I  sat  "waiting  upon"  Miss 
Music,  my  freezing  limbs  forced  me  into  this  train  of 
reflection :  "  How  could  I  have  so  far  taken  leave  of  my 
senses,  as  to  promise  myself  any  pleasure  from  such  a 
jaunt  as  this  ! — It  is  extremely  doubtful  whether  we  shall 
start  a  fox  ;  and  if  we  should,  what  are  the  cries  of  twen- 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  189 

ty  hounds,  to  three  or  four  hours  exposure,  without  even 
an  overcoat,  upon  such  a  piercing  morning  as  this  ! 
And  wherein  will  the  cry  differ  from  that  of  the  same 
pack,  in  pursuit  of  a  rabbit,  on  a  fine  sunny  day.  And 
why  seek  amusement  in  the  tortures  of  a  poor  unoffend 
ing  animal !  In  this  country,  at  least,  I  never  heard  of 
a  single  loss  from  a  farm-yard  which  could  be  fairly 
traced  to  the  fox — not  even  of  a  goose,  much  less  of  a 
lamb.  My  rest  broken,  my  health  jeoparded,  and  my 
immediate  sufferings  excrutiating !  Folly — madness  in 
the  extreme !" 

We  had  not  proceeded  far  before  groups  of  from  two 
to  five  hounds  could  be  heard  in  all  directions  in  pursuit 
of  Miss  Mary  Anns.  Hitherto  my  hopes  had  been 
buoyed  up,  by  the  number  of  hounds ;  for  I  naturally 
concluded,  that  our  chances  of  success  increased  with 
their  number :  but  now,  I  plainly  saw  that  our  only  hope 
was  upon  Rome  and  Louder,  for  all  the  others  had  re- 
signed  themselves  unreservedly  to  Mary  Anns. 

We  were  moving  on  upon  a  skirt  of  woods,  entirely 
surrounded  by  fields,  when  from  the  opposite  side  of  it, 
the  well  known  voice  of  the  deep-mouthed  Louder  fell 
joyously  upon  our  ears.  "  Hark  !"  cried  all  of  us  at 
once.  In  an  instant,  the  clear,  shrill  note  of  Rome  con 
firmed  his  companion's  report ;  for  they  always  hunted 
together,  and  each  obeyed  the  call  of  the  other  in  a  mo 
ment.  Then  both  together — then  alternately  in  quick 
succession,  they  repeated  their  assurances.  In  an  instant 
all  the  various  groups  of  hounds  of  which  we  were 
speaking,  were  hushed  ;  and  from  every  direction  they 
could  be  seen  dashing  to  the  two  favorites.  Such  is  the 
force  of  truth  even  with  dumb  brutes. 

A  loud  scream  of  exultation  and  encouragement  broke 
involuntarily  from  all  the  huntsmen,  (not  excepting  my, 
self,)  and  each  dashed  for  the  hounds  as  the  impulse  of 
P2 


190  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

the  moment  urged  him  on.  Some  skirted  the  forest  in 
one  way,  some  in  another  ;  but  Crocket  plunged  direct 
ly  through  it  at  half  speed — how,  heaven  only  knows  ; 
but  I  hardly  missed  him  before  I  heard  him  encouraging 
the  dogs  in  his  presence.  I  took  a  moment  for  reflec 
tion,  which,  of  course,  I  was  permitted  to  enjoy  alone. 
My  conclusion  was,  that  if  Crocket  could  gallop  through 
the  wood  with  safety,  I  certainly  could  pace  through  it 
without  injury,  and  as  this  was  much  the  nearest  way,  I 
determined  to  attempt  it.  My  resolves  were  no  sooner 
formed  than  they  were  communicated  to  Smooth-tooth, 
who  entered  the  wood  with  his  accustomed  prudence  and 
circumspection. 

The  first  streaks  of  day  had  now  appeared ;  but  they 
were  entirely  useless  to  me  after  I  entered  the  forest.  I 
had  proceeded  about  sixty  paces,  when  a  limb,  of  some 
kind,  (I  know  not  what,)  fetched  me  a  whipe  across  the 
face,  that  set  the  principles  of  philosophy  at  defiance ; 
for  it  was  certainly  four  times  as  severe,  as  Smooth- 
tooth's  momentum  would  have  justified,  upon  any  known 
law  of  projectiles — At  least  it  seemed  so  to  me  ;  for  it 
came  like  a  flash  of  lightening  over  the  icing  of  my  face ; 
giving  me,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  a  sensible  idea 
of  the  Georgia  expression,  "feeling  streaked;"  for  my 
face  actually  felt  as  though  it  was  covered  with  streaks 
of  fire  and  streaks  of  ice. 

Twenty  paces  more,  had  like  to  have  wound  up  my 
hunt  with  the  felon's  death :  for,  as  I  was  moving  on 
with  all  due  caution  and  sobriety,  a  little,  supple,  infran 
gible  grape  vine,  attached  to  two  slim  elastic  sapplings, 
between  which  I  passed,  threw  one  of  its  festoons  grace 
fully  around  my  neck,  and  politely  informed  me  that  I 
must  stop,  or  be  hung.  I  communicated  this  intelligence 
to  Smooth-tooth  without  loss  of  time,  and  as  stopping  was 
his  delight,  he,  of  course,  obeyed  the  mandate  as  quick 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  191 

as  he  could.  Prompt  as  was  his  obedience,  it  was  too 
slow  for  the  petulent  little  grape  vine ;  for,  though  it  con 
sented  to  spare  my  life,  it  dismissed  me  with  most  ungen- 
tlemanly  rudeness.  It  just  took  my  profile  from  my 
neck  upwards,  passing  over  all  the  turns  and  angles  of 
my  face,  with  a  rigor  that  Socrates  himself  could  not 
have  borne  with  patience.  It  returned  from  its  delinea 
tion,  like  a  bow-string,  sending  my  hat  aloft,  I  know  not 
how  high ;  but  judging  from  the  time  which  intervened 
between  its  departure  from  my  head,  and  its  report  on 
the  ground,  I  should  say  nearly  to  the  height  of  the  wed 
ded  sapplings.  Never  but  once  before,  had  I  such  a 
lively  sense  of  the  value  of  a  hat  in  cold  weather,  as  I 
now  had.  The  chills  ran  from  my  head  to  my  toes,  like 
ague  fits  ;  and  these  I  had  to  bear  for  the  space  of  a 
minute  or  two,  before  I  could  feel  out  my  hat.  At  last 
I  recovered  it  and  remounted.  "  How  was  it  possible," 
exclaimed  I,  "  for  Crocket  to  get  through  this  wood  at 
half  speed  !  It  must  be  true,  that  'fortunafavetfortibus,'' 
and  111  e'en  risk  a  little  upon  the  strength  of  the  maxim. 
Switches  were  convenient,  as  my  misfortunes  have  prov 
ed  ;  and  having  supplied  myself  with  one,  I  drew  my 
hat  over  my  eyes,  brought  my  head  down  close  to 
Smooth-tooth's  withers,  hugged  him  tight  with  my  legs, 
and  put  whip  to  him  manfully.  Smooth-tooth  now  felt 
his  dignity  assailed,  and  he  put  off  at  a  respectable  fox 
hunting  gait.  This  soon  brought  me  to  the  edge  of  the 
old  field,  with  no  other  accident  than  a  smart  blow  from 
a  sappling,  upon  my  right  knee,  which,  though  it  nearly 
unhorsed  me,  did  me  no  serious  injury. 

Here  I  found  all  my  companions  re-assembled. — 
While  the  drag  lay  within  the  frost-covered  field,  the 
dogs  carried  it  briskly ;  but  as  soon  as  it  entered  the 
wood,  they  were  at  fault.  In  this  situation  they  were, 
when  I  joined  the  huntsmen.  It  was  long  before  we 


102  GEORGIA   SCENES,   feC. 

had  any  encouragement  to  hope  that  they  would  ever 
take  it  beyond  the  margin  of  the  field ;  occasionally, 
however,  and  at  painful  intervals,  the  two  favorites  would 
bid  us  not  to  despair.  Crocket,  and  three  or  four  of  the 
party,  remained  with  and  encouraged  the  hounds ; 
while  Andrews,  Marden  and  myself,  adjourned  to  a 
narrow  lane  to  enjoy  the  comforts  of  the  risen  sun.  The 
sluggish  trail  allowed  us  an  hour's  basking ;  which  so 
far  relaxed  my  rigid  members  as  to  prepare  me  for 
enjoying  Marden 's  amusing  stories,  and  Stewart's  dry 
humor.  While  we  were  thus  engaged,  and  after  we  had 
relinquished  all  hope  of  a  chase  for  that  morning  at  least, 
the  notes  of  the  two  favorites  became  more  and  more 
frequent.  Soon  a  third,  and  fourth  voice  joined  them, 
and  the  chorus  swelled  and  varied  with  every  second, 
until  eight  in  the  morning,  when  the  whole  pack  broke 
in  full  cry.  Reynard  was  up,  and  twenty  foes  in  hot 
pursuit. 

How,  or  why,  I  am  unable  to  tell,  but  truth  constrains 
me  to  say,  that  for  some  moments  I  was  enraptured  with 
the  sport.  The  fox  obliqued  towards  us,  and  entered  a 
field  of  which  our  position  commanded  a  full  view.  He 
must  have  left  his  covert  with  reluctance,  for  he  was  not 
more  than  a  hundred  paces  ahead  of  the  hounds  when  he 
entered  the  field.  First  of  the  pack,  and  side  by  side, 
the  heroes  of  the  clamorous  band,  rose  the  fence. — Then 
followed,  in  thick  array,  the  whole  troop  ;  and  close  on 
their  rear,  Crocket  burst  through  the  copse-wood  and 
charged  the  fence,  without  a  pause.  Around  me,  in 
every  direction,  I  could  see  the  huntsmen  sweeping  to 
the  choir  ;  and  as  emerging  from  the  forests,  or  gaining 
the  heights  around,  they  caught  the  first  glimpse  of  the 
gallant  pack,  they  raised  a  shout,  which,  none  but  the 
overcharged  heart  can  give,  and  none  but  the  lifeless 
heart  receive  unmoved.  I  was  soon  deserted  as  before ; 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  193 

but  partly  from  the  inspiration  of  the  sport,  and  partly 
from  the  success  of  my  recent  experiment,  I  plied  Smooth- 
tooth  with  the  whip  most  astonishingly,  and  put  off  in 
pursuit  of  the  hounds  in  handsome  style — via  the  lane, 
which  happened  to  have  exactly  the  curvature  which  I 
desired. 

The  fox  had  hardly  left  the  field  through  which  my 
eye  followed  him,  before  all  of  a  sudden,  the  voice  of 
every  hound  hushed.  They  were  completely  at  fault ; 
and  thus  I  found  them  when  I  once  more  joined  my  com 
pany.  They  "  knocked  out,"  as  the  saying  is,  near  to 
the  corner  of  'Squire  Snibby's  field,  which  lay  contigu 
ous  to  the  first  which  they  entered.  Dogs  and  men 
here  toiled  assiduously  to  take  the  trail  away,  but  in  vain. 
At  length  Crocket  suspected  Reynard  of  a  trick  :  he 
conjectured  th,at  the  cunning  rogue  had  ascended  the 
Squire's  fence,  and  followed  it  some  distance  before  he 
alighted.  And  so  it  proved  to  be ;  for,  taking  some  of 
the  dogs  with  him  along  the  fence  side,  Crocket  introduc 
ed  them  again  to  the  trail,  at  the  distance  of  full  three 
hundred  yards  from  the  point  at  which  they  lost  it. — 
The  cry  was  now  renewed  with  all  its  former  spirit. 
The  fox,  huntsmen  and  hounds,  took  to  the  right ;  but 
as  fields  lay  in  that  direction,  I  concluded  that  he  would 
soon  turn  and  follow  the  belt  of  woodland,  in  the  oppo 
site  direction ;  I  therefore  took  to  the  left,  by  a  pretty 
little  path,  which  might  possibly  have  exerted  some  in 
fluence  upon  my  determination.  I  had  not  proceeded 
far  before  I  encountered  a  large  log  lying  directly  across 
my  path.  Here  I  resolved  to  experiment  a  little,  unob 
served,  upon  Smooth-tooth's  agility.  "  If,"  said  I,  "  he 
clears  that  log,  in  handsome  style,  I'll  charge  the  first 
(low)  fence  that  intercepts  my  pursuit."  Accordingly, 
I  put  whip  and  heels  to  Smooth-tooth,  who  neared  it 
elegantly  ;  but  as  soon  as  he  came  within  jumping  dis- 


194  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

tance,  he  stopt  with  a  suddenness  and  self-composure, 
which  plainly  signified  that  he  expected  me  to  let  it  down 
for  him.  The  consequence  was,  that  I  was  very  near 
being  laid  across  the  log- for  my  pains.  I  now  became 
testy,  and  resolved,  that  as  he  would  not  "  run  and  jump" 
it,  he  should  "  stand  and  jump"  it.  I  therefore  brought 
him  up  to  it,  and  commenced  the  old  discipline.  After 
proposing  to  go  round  it,  either  way,  without  my  appro- 
bation,  he  at  length  raised  his  fore-feet,  and  threw  them 
lazily  over  the  log,  coming  down  upon  them  as  the  white 
bear  does  in  breaking  ice,  and  stopt  right  astride  of  the 
log.  I  was  now  prompted  by  curiosity  to  see,  if  left  to 
himself,  whether  he  would  stand  there  or  go  on ;  and 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  his  own  free  will  led  him  to  nei 
ther  alternative — for  he  was  in  the  very  act  of  drawing 
his  fore-feet  back,  with  a  kind  of  fall-down  motion,  when 
I  gave  him  the  whip  and  forced  him  to  drag,  rather  lift, 
his  hind  feet  over. 

This  feat  performed,  I  moved  on  about  two  hundred 
yards,  when,  as  I  had  anticipated,  I  heard  the  hounds 
coming  directly  towards  me.  I  stopt,  and  in  a  minute's 
time,  Reynard  crossed  the  path  within  thirty  steps  of  me. 
Then  came  the  dogs  in  the  order  in  which  they  entered 
the  field;  and  hard  upon  them  came  Crocket  upon  his 
foaming  steed. 

"  Did  you  see  him  ?"  exclaimed  he,  finding  me  near 
the  trail. 

"  Yes,"  said  1,  «  distinctly." 

u  How  was  his  tail  ?" 

"  I  did'nt  notice,  particularly,  but  sticking  to  him  I 
believe." 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !"  said  Crocket ;  "  was  his  brush  up 
or  down  ?" 

"Neither,"  said  I,  "he  brushed  right  across." 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  195 

Here  the  Major  uttered  something  harsh  and  dashed 
on.  I  afterwards  learned  that  experienced  fox  hunters 
know  the  extent  of  his  exhaustion,  from  the  manner  in 
which  he  carries  his  tail. 

Having  reasoned  out  the  fox's  monument  this  time 
successfully,  I  concluded  I  could  do  the  like  again :  I 
therefore  reasoned,  that  after  rambling  about  a  short 
time,  he  would  seek  the  neighborhood  of  his  burrow. 
Accordingly  I  paced  back  (going  around  the  log  this 
time)  to  a  position  where  I  might  intercept  him.  Here 
1  remained  about  an  hour,  without  hearing  man,  horse, 
or  dog  :  and  then  I  paced  home,  where  I  arrived  at 
eleven  o'clock,  perfectly  satisfied  with  fox  hunting. 

When  my  companions  returned,  they  reported,  that 
five  miles  from  where  I  was  waiting  for  the  fox,  and 
seven  from  the  village,  at  about  two  o'clock,  P.  M.,  right 
in  the  big  road,  near  Richland  Creek,  the  dogs  "  knock- 
ed  out,"  and  could  never  be  knocked  in  again. 

But  they  brought  home  a  rich  fund  of  anecdote  from 
the  chase,  which  served  to  enliven  many  an  idle  hour 
afterwards — I  reserved  mine  to  the  present  moment,  to 
enliven  the  family  fire-side,  on  these  cold  winter's  even- 
ings.  HALL. 


THE  WAX  WORKS. 


In  the  city  of ,  resided  once,  a  band  of  gay 

spirits,  who,  though  they  differed  from  each  other  in 
respects,  were  all  alike  in  this,  that  they  were  fond 
fun. 


196  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

Billy  Grossly  was  an  odd  compound  of  grave  and 
humorous.  He  seldom  projected  a  scheme  of  amuse 
ment  ;  but  never  failed  to  take  part  in  it,  when  it  was 
set  on  foot  by  others.  Why,  it  was  not  easy  to  tell ;  for, 
if  he  enjoyed  the  most  amusing  pastime  at  all,  his  enjoy, 
ment  was  all  inward ;  for  he  rarely  laughed,  or  gave 
any  other  visible  sign  of  lively  pleasure. 

Jack  Clomes  seemed  to  have  been  made  for  fun.  It 
was  his  meat  and  his  drink :  he  could  no  more  live 
without  it,  than  he  could  live  without  his  ordinary  diet. 
Withal,  Jack  had  a  wonderful  talent  for  manufacturing 
food  for  his  prevailing  appetite.  Indeed,  his  fault  was, 
that  he  never  could  be  got  to  perform  his  part,  in  a  hu 
morous  exhibition,  which  required  concert  with  others, 
without  digressing  from  the  main  plot,  whenever  he  dis 
covered  a  fair  opportunity  ot  picking  up  a  delicate  mor 
sel  of  fun,  precisely  suited  to  his  own  palate. 

James  McLass,  was  fond  of  a  harmless  frolic,  and 
whenever  he  engaged  in  it,  if  by  preconcert,  he  always 
made  it  a  point  of  honor  to  perform  his  part  in  strict 
obedience  to  the  original  design. 

These  three,  with  six  or  eight  others,  whose  disposi 
tions  it  is  not  necessary  to  mention,  visited  the  village  of 

,  in  order  to  attend  the  races,  which  were  in 

progress  in  the  vicinity  of  that  place. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  races,  it  was  discovered  that 
the  joint  funds  of  the  whole  fraternity,  were  not  sufficient 
to  discharge  the  tavern  bills  of  any  two  of  them. 
What  was  to  be  done  in  this  emergency.  To  have  bor 
rowed  would  have  been  extremely  mortifying,  and  per 
haps  a  little  inconvenient — to  have  gone  away  without 
paying  their  tavern  bills,  would  have  been  contrary  to 
the  first  principles  of  Georgia  honor.  They  were  soon 
relieved  from  their  dilemma,  by  the  ingenuity  of  Clomes. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  197 

During  the  races,  a  "  Down-easter"  had  been  exhibit- 
ing  wax  figures  in  the  village  ;  and  concluding  that  the 
profits  of  his  business  would  end  with  the  sports  of  the 
turf,  he  had  begun  to  pack  up  his  portables,  for  removal 
to  a  more  eligible  station. 

Clomes  now  proposed,  that  his  company  should  take 
the  places  and  parts  of  the  retiring  figures — or,  to  use  his 
own  expression — "  should  play  wax  works,"  until  they 
made  enough  to  pay  their  bills.  A  single  night,  it  was 
thought,  would  suffice  for  this  purpose* 

The  plan  was  no  sooner  proposed,  than  it  was  embrac 
ed  by  all.  The  room  and  its  furniture  were  engaged 
for  the  evening  ;  the  parts  were  cast  without  difficulty ; 
and  each  went  industriously  to  work,  to  fit  himself  for 
the  part  he  was  to  perform. 

Billy  Grossly,  having  the  advantage  of  all  the  restj  in 
height  and  abdominal  rotundity,  was  by  common  con 
sent  chosen  as  a  proper  representative  of  Daniel  Lam 
bert  ;  the  prodigious  Englishman,  who  weighed,  if  I 
remember  rightly,  upwards  of  six  hundred  pounds.  The 
reader  need  hardly  be  told,  that  with  all  his  advantages, 
Billy  required  the  aid  of  at  least  eight  pillows,  with 
some  extra  chinking,  as  we  say  in  Georgia,  to  give  him 
a  bulk  corresponding  with  this  enormous  weight :  nor 
need  he  be  told,  that  divers  of  the  most  decent  bags  which 
the  village  afforded,  with  a  small  sheet,  were  put  in  re 
quisition,  to  contain  him  and  his  adjuncts. 

Freedom  Lazenby,  was  the  only  one  of  the  company 
who  could,  with  any  propriety,  personify  the  Sleeping 
Beauty  ;  and  of  course  this  part  was  assigned  to  him. 
Freedom's  figure  was  quite  too  gross  for  the  beau  ideal 
of  female  symmetry ;  and  his  face,  though  fine  for  a 
man,  had  rather  too  much  compass  to  represent  nature's 
finest  touches  of  female  beauty.  However,  it  was  soon 
perceived  that  a  counterpane  would  hide  the  defects  of 

q 


198  GEORGIA    SCENES,    &C. 

the  first,  and  a  deep-frilled  cap  would  reduce  the  last  to 
passable  effeminacy.  But  there  were  two  other  difficul 
ties,  which  were  not  so  easily  removed.  It  is  well 
known,  that  the  interest  of  the  Sleeping  Beauty  is  much 
enlivened  by  an  exposed  bosom,  by  which  reposes  a 
lovely  infant.  Even  domes'  ingenuity  could  not  supply 
these.  A  living  child  would  not  answer  ;  for  whether 
taken  to  the  arms  of  the  Beauty  asleep  or  awake,  it 
would  be  certain  to  give  signs  of  life,  before  the  exhibi 
tion  ended ;  and  there  was  not  even  a  tolerable  manu 
facturer  of  bosoms  in  the  whole  village.  There  was  no 
alternative  ;  the  interest  of  the  spectators  must  yield  to 
the  necessities  of  the  performers  :  it  was  therefore  deter 
mined  that  the  Beauty's  bosom  should  share  the  fate  of 
her  person,  and  be  covered ;  that  an  infant  should  be 
manufactured  in  the  best  possible  style,  out  of  rags ;  and 
that  the  paint-brush  should  supply  the  place  of  wax,  for 
the  face.  As  there  were  no  Raphaels,  Titians,  Wests 
or  Debuifes,  in  the  village,  the  little  innocent  did  not 
come  from  the  hands  of  the  artist,  with  the  most  perfect 
face  imaginable;  but  it  was  the  best  that  could  be 
given  to  it,  and  if  it  wanted  interest,  that  was  not  the 
fault  of  the  company. 

To  James  McLass  was  assigned  the  part  of  Miss 
Eliza  Failes,  the  unfortunate  girl  who  was  murdered  by 
her  unnatural  lover,  Jason  Fairbanks  ;  and  Clomes  took 
the  part  of  the  murderer. 

It  was  proposed  to  represent  Miss  Failes  at  that  mo 
ment  when  the  blood  was  streaming  from  the  lacerated 
throat ;  but  Jemmy  refused  to  personify  her  in  that  con 
dition,  and  therefore  they  had  to  place  him  in  another 
part  of  the  tragedy.  That  was  selected,  in  which  Fair 
banks  has  his  victim  by  the  hair  with  the  left  hand,  th€ 
knife  upraised  in  the  right,  in  the  act  of  commencing  his 
work  of  butchery. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  199 

The  other  figures,  being  merely  distinguished  person 
ages,  were  easily  represented. 

From  some  cause  unknown,  perhaps  to  invite  visitors, 
or  merely  because,  perhaps,  it  was  a  matter  that  lay 
fully  within  the  range  of  the  company's  art,  they  resolv 
ed  to  exhibit  a  corpse  in  the  anti-chamber,  gratis;  and 
Pleasant  Halgroce,  a  jolly  son  of  Bacchus,  kindly  offer 
ed  to  play  this  part.  Every  child  knows,  that  a  plate 
of  burning  spirits,  with  a  little  salt  thrown  into  it,  will 
throw  over  the  features  of  a  living  person,  all  the  pale 
ness  and  ghastliness  of  death.  This  was  the  only  device 
used,  to  convert  Pleasant's  smerky  red  face  into  that  of 
a  corpse. 

All  matters  being  now  arranged,  and  the  performers 
having  practised  their  parts  in  their  new  characters  until 
they  ceased  to  be  ridiculous ;  they  all  took  their  places 
after  an  early  supper. 

Before  the  doors  were  opened  to  the  principal  exhibi- 
bition,  a  little  incident  occurred  in  the  anti-chamber, 
which  suddenly  closed  the  entertainment  in  this  quarter ; 
and  had  a  material  bearing  upon  that  in  the  other. 

Pleasant  Halgroce  had  taken  his  position,  and  was 
playing  a  corpse  to  the  life,  or  rather  to  the  death,  a 
number  of  persons  gathered  round  him,  with  becoming 
solemnity,  when  a  dumb  man,  who  was  devotedly  at 
tached  to  him  joined  the  group.  As  soon  as  his  eyes 
fell  upt>n  the  prostrate  body  of  Pleasant,  he  burst  into 
the  most  piteous  and  unaffected  wailing.  Nothing  could 
restrain  him  from  embracing  his  departed  friend.  He 
approached  him,  and  was  in  the  act  of  bending  over  him, 
to  give  him  affection's  fondest  adieu,  when  a  pretty  stiff 
breeze  from  Pleasant's  lips,  strengthened  by  previous 
suppression,  charged  with  the  fumes  of  about  a  half  pint 
of  brandy,  saluted  the  face  of  the  mourner.  The  transi 
tion  from  grief  to  joy  was  instantaneous  with  the  poor 


200  GEORGIA   SCEtffiS,  &C« 

mute.  He  rose  in  transports — pointed  to  Pleasant's  facev 
then  to  his  own,  touched  his  nose,  gave  it  a  significant 
curl,  snuffed  gently,  and  then  clapping  both  hands  to  his 
stomach,  he  commenced  inhaling  and  respiring,  with  all 
the  tone  and  emphasis  of  a  pair  of  blacksmith's  bellows* 
Pleasant,  now  perceiving  that  exposure  was  inevitable, 
rose,  and  rushed  upon  the  dumb  man,  with  the  fury  of  a 
tiger.  This  sudden  resuscitation  of  Pleasant,  to  life  in 
its  most  healthful  action,  was  as  alarming  to  the  mute, 
as  his  breathing  had  been  joyous;  and  he  fled,  with 
Pleasant  at  his  heels,  as  though  all  the  tenants  of  the 
church  yard  had  risen  upon  him  at  once. 

Pleasant  had  only  to  resume  his  dress,  and  appear  in 
a  natural  light,  to  pass  unknown  by  all  but  the  initiated  ; 
for  aside  from  burning  brandy,  he  was  no  more  like  a 
corpse  than  a  rose  is  like  a  lily. 

Pleasant  being  now  out  of  employment,  determined 
to  take  upon  himself  the  part  of  historian  to  the  wax 
figures. 

The  door  leading  to  the  figures  Was  no  sooner  opened, 
than  several  persons  entered,  and  viewed  them  with  ap 
parent  satisfaction.  The  spectators  had  increased  to  the 
number  of  eight  or  ten,  when  a  raw-boned,  awkward, 
gawky  son  of  the  forest,  named  Rory  Brushwood,  made 
his  appearance,  paid  his  money,  and  entered.  Pleasant, 
of  course,  undertook  to  enrich  his  mind  with  historic 
lore,  while  he  feasted  his  eye  upon  the  wonders  of  art. 

"  This,"  said  Pleasant,  leading  Rory  up  to  the  Sleep 
ing  Beauty,  "  is  the  Sleeping  Beauty :  she's  given  up 
on  all  hands  to  be  the  prettiest  creature  in  the  universal 
world.  Now,  what  would  you  give,  my  old  Snort,  to 
have  as  pretty  a  wife  and  as  pretty  a  baby  as  that  ?" 

"  Humph,"  said  Rory,  "  I  don't  think  she's  so  d n'd 

pretty  as  she  mout  be  :  and  as  for  the  baby,  it  looks  like 
a  screech-owl  in  petticoats." 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  201 

"  Monstrous  pretty,  monstrous  pretty !"  continued 
Pleasant.  "  But  come  here" — hurrying  Rory  off,  lest 
his  remarks  should  wake  the  Sleeping  Beauty — "  come 
here,  and  I'll  show  you  something  that'll  make  your  hair 
rise  like  a  fighting  cat's." 

"There!"  continued  he,  pointing  to  Billy  Grossly, 
"just  take  a  squint  at  that  fellow,  will  you :  That's  Dan 
iel  Lambert :  he  was  born  in  Nocatchey,  and  was  rais 
ed  upon  nothing  but  grass-nuts  and  sweet  potatoes ;  and 
just  see  what  he's  come  to!  He  weighs  nine  hundred 
and  fifty,  dead  weight." 

"  He's  a  whaler !"  said  Rory  ;  "  but  his  face  is  migh 
ty  little,  for  his  belly  and  legs." 

"  Oh,"  said  Pleasant,  "  that's  owing  to  the  grass-nuts 
and  potatoes :  you  know  they  always  puff  up  the  lower 
parts,  mightily." 

Nobody  but  Billy  could  have  withstood  this  lecture 
upon  himself,  without  a  smile  ;  but  he  passed  it  off  ad 
mirably. 

The  critical  time  was  now  at  hand.  Pleasant  and 
Rory  advanced  in  front  of  Miss  Failes  and  Mr.  Fair 
banks,  where  they  found  another  visitor  viewing  the 
interesting  couple.  Pleasant  deemed  it  unadvisable  to 
continue  his  lectures  in  the  presence  ofClomes;  and  had 
Clomes  himself  been  equally  prudent,  things  might  all 
have  ended  well :  but  he  was  not. 

While  the  three  gentlemen  just  named  were  gaz 
ing  on  the  figures  before  them,  Jack  took  it  into  his 
head  to  try  a  little  experiment  upon  Miss  Failes'  mus 
cles,  through  the  sensibilities  of  her  head ;  accordingly 
he  tightened  his  grip  suddenly  upon  her  hair.  This 
brought  from  her  a  slight  wince ;  but  Jack  did  not  per 
ceive  it.  Encouraged  by  her  philosophy,  he  made  a 
second  pull  with  all  the  strength  that  lay  in  the  muscles 
and  sinews  of  his  left  hand. 
q2 


202  GEORGIA    SCENES,  &C. 

This  brought  a  palpable  grin  from  Miss  Failes ;  and, 
what  was  worse,  in  the  zeal  of  his  experiments  upon 
Jim's  stoicism,  Jack  over-acted  his  own  "part  a  little. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Rory,  in  a  tone  of  awful  dignity 
and  self-satisfaction,  as  he  turned  gravely  to  the  by 
standers,  "  gentlemen,  its  flesh  and  blood." 

" There,"  said  Pleasant,  "that  just  proves 'what  I've 
said  :  that  these  are  the  best  wax  works  that  ever  was 
showed  in  all  these  parts.  It's  most  impossible  to  tell 
'em  from  live  folks." 

"  Gentlemen,"  repeated  Rory,  with  the  same  unruffled 
composure,  "  its  flesh  and  blood.  If  I  did'nt  see  that 
fellow  wink,  and  that  woman  squinch  her  face,  then 
hell's  a  dancing  room." 

«  No  matter  for  that,"  said  Pleasant,  "  they're  nothin' 
but  wax  for  all  that :  and  if  you  don't  b'lieve  me,  just 
feel  that  fellow's  cheek." 

Rory  raised  his  finger  slowly,  as  if  actually  doubting 
the  evidence  of  his  senses,  and  was  just  in  the  act  of 
touching  Jack's  cheek,  when  Jack  snapped  at  his  finger 
like  a  shark,  and  caught  it  between  his  teeth  with  a 
force  most  unreasonable  for  fun." 

The  shock  was  so  unexpected  and  severe,  that  it  com 
pletely  unmanned  Rory  for  the  instant,  and  he  sunk 
powerless  upon  the  floor.  He  soon  r©se,  however,  and 
rose  with  Miss  Failes'  chair,  which  happened  to  be  va 
cant  just  at  this  moment ;  and  then,  (to  use  an  expression 
of  one  of  the  characters,)  "if  ever  you  saw  wax  works 
cut  dirt,  they  cut  it  then." 

Mr.  Fairbanks  was  the  first  to  make  his  escape ; 
but  not  without  being  nearly  overtaken  ^y  the  chair. 
Miss  Failes  followed  next — then  General  Washington 
and  other  distinguished  personages,  whose  attitudes  pre 
pared  them  for  running.  The  Sleeping  Beauty  being  a 
little  incumbered  with  bed-clothes,  was  rather  slow  in 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  203 

retiring  ;  she  was  enough  in  a  hurry,  however,  to  leave 
her  little  infant  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  to  Rory's  care ; 
who,  discovering  its  true  character  just  as  Daniel  Lam 
bert  was  removing  his  feathers  to  another  apartment,  let 
him  have  the  baby,  with  all  his  force,  between  the  shoul 
ders.  As  this  was  only  rags  against  pillows,  Daniel 
escaped  as  free  from  injury  as  the  rest  of  them. 

Rory  now  became  clamorous  for  his  money  ;  but  the 
door-keeper  was  not  to  be  found ;  and  indeed  claimed, 
and  kept,  for  his  services,  all  that  was  made  ;  leaving 
the  performers  to  settle  their  bills  as  they  could. 

HALL. 


A  SAGE  CONVERSATION. 

I  love  the  aged  matrons  of  our  land.  As  a  class,  they 
are  the  most  pious,  the  most  benevolent,  the  most  useful, 
and  the  most  harmless  of  the  human  family.  Their 
life,  is  a  life  of  good  offices.  At  home,  they  are  patterns 
of  industry,  care,  economy  and  hospitality ;  abroad,  they 
are  ministers  of  comfort,  peace  and  consolation.  Where 
affliction  is,  there  are  they,  to  mitigate  its  pangs ;  where 
sorrow  is,  there  are  they  to  assuage  its  pains.  Nor 
night,  nor  day,  nor  summer's  heat,  nor  winter's  cold,  nor 
angry  elements,  can  deter  them  from  scenes  of  suffering 
and  distress.  They  are  the  first  at  the  fevered  couch, 
and  the  last  to  leave  it.  They  hold  the  first  and  last 
cup  to  the  parched  lip.  They  bind  the  aching  head, 
close  the  dying  eye,  and  linger  in  the  death-stricken 


204  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

habitation,  to  pour  the  last  drop  of  consolation  into  the 
afflicted  bosoms  of  the  bereaved.  I  cannot,  therefore, 
ridicule  them  myself,  nor  bear  to  hear  them  ridiculed  in 
my  presence.  And  yet,  I  am  often  amused  at  their  con- 
versations  ;  and  have  amused  them  with  a  rehearsal  of 
their  own  conversations,  taken  down  by  me  when  they 
little  dreamed  that  I  was  listening  to  them.  Perhaps  my 
reverence  for  their  character,  conspiring  with  a  native 
propensity  to  extract  amusement  from  all  that  passes 
under  my  observation,  has  accustomed  me  to  pay  a  uni 
formly  strict  attention  to  all  they  say  in  my  presence. 

This  much  in  extraordinary  courtesy  to  those  who 
cannot  distinguish  between  a  simple  narrative  of  an 
amusing  interview,  and  ridicule  of  the  parties  to  it.  In 
deed  I  do  not  know  that  the  conversation  which  I  am 
about  to  record,  will  be  considered  amusing  by  any  of 
my  readers.  Certainly  the  amusement  of  the  readers 
of  my  own  times,  is  not  the  leading  object  of  it,  or  of  any 
of  the  "  Georgia  Scenes ;"  forlorn  as  may  be  the  hope, 
that  their  main  object  will  ever  be  answered. 

When  I  seated  myself  to  the  sheet  now  before  me,  my 
intention  was  merely  to  detail  a  conversation  between 
three  ladies,  which  I  heard  many  years  since  ;  confining 
myself  to  only  so  much  of  it,  as  sprung  from  the  ladies' 
own  thoughts,  unawaked  by  the  suggestions  of  others  ; 
but,  as  the  manner  of  its  introduction  will  perhaps  inter 
est  some  of  my  readers,  I  will  give  it. 

I  was  travelling  with  my  old  friend,  Ned  Brace,  when 
we  stopped  at  the  dusk  of  the  evening  at  a  house  on  the 
road  side,  for  the  night.  Here  we  found  three  nice,  tidy, 
aged  matrons,  the  youngest  of  whom  could  not  have 
been  under  sixty  ;  one  of  them  of  course  was  the  lady  of 
the  house,  whose  husband,  old  as  he  was,  had  gone  from 
home  upon  a  land  exploring  expedition.  She  received 
us  hospitably,  had  our  horses  well  attended  to,  and  soon 


G-EOR6IA  SCENES, 


205 


prepared  for  Us  a  comfortable  supper*  While  these 
things  were  doing,  Ned  and  I  engaged  the  other  two  in 
conversation  ;  in  the  course  of  which,  Ned  deported 
himself  with  becoming  seriousness.  The  kind  lady  of 
the  house  occasionally  joined  us,  and  became  perma 
nently  one  of  the  party,  from  the  time  the  first  dish  was 
placed  on  the  table.  At  the  usual  hour,  we  were  sum- 
moned  to  supper  ;  and  as  soon  as  we  were  seated,  Ned, 
unsolicited,  and  most  unexpectedly  to  me,  said  grace. — 
I  knew  full  well  that  this  was  a  prelude  to  some  trick,  I 
could  not  conjecture  what.  His  explanation  (except  so 
much  as  I  discovered  myself)  was,  that  he  knew  that 
one  of  us  would  be  asked  to  say  grace,  and  he  thought 
he  might  as  well  save  the  good  ladies  the  trouble  of 
asking.  The  matter  was,  however,  more  fully  explained 
just  before  the  moment  of  our  retiring  to  bed  arrived.  To 
this  moment  the  conversation  went  round  between  the 
good  ladies  and  ourselves,  with  mutual  interest  to  all. — 
It  was  much  enlivened  by  Ned,  who  was  capable,  as  the 
reader  has  been  heretofore  informed,  of  making  himself 
extremely  agreeable  in  all  company ;  and  who,  upon 
this  occasion,  was  upon  his  very  best  behaviour.  It  was 
immediately  after  I  had  looked  at  my  watch  in  token  of 
my  disposition  to  retire  for  the  night,  that  the  conversa 
tion  turned  upon  marriages,  happy  and  unhappy,  strange, 
unequal,  runaways,  &c.  Ned  rose  in  the  midst  of  it, 
and  asked  the  landlady  where  we  should  sleep.  She 
pointed  to  an  open  shed-room  adjoining  the  room  in 
which  we  were  sitting,  and  separated  from  it  by  a  log 
partition,  between  the  spaces  of  which  might  be  seen  all 
that  passed  in  the  dining  room ;  and  so  close  to  the  fire 
place  of  this  apartment,  that  a  loud  whisper  might  be 
easily  heard  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  The  strangest  match,"  said  Ned,  resuming  the  con 
versation  with  a  parson's  gravity,  "  that  ever  1  heard 


206  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

of,  was  that  of  George  Scott  and  David  Snow  ;  two  most 
excellent  men,  who  became  so  much  attached  to  each 
other  that  they  actually  got  married" 

"The  lackaday  !"  exclaimed  one  of  the  ladies. 

"  And  was  it  really  a  fact  ?"  enquired  another. 

"  Oh  yes,  ma'am,"  continued  Ned,  "I  knew  them  very 
well,  and  often  went  to  their  house  ;  and  no  people  could 
have  lived  happier  or  managed  better  than  they  did. 
And  they  raised  a  lovely  parcel  of  children — as  fine  a 
set  as  I  ever  saw,  except  their  youngest  son,  Billy  :  he 
was  a  little  wild,  but,  upon  the  whole,  a  right  clever  boy 
himself. — Come,  friend  Baldwin,  we're  setting  up  too 
late  for  travellers."  So  saying,  Ned  moved  to  the  shed- 
room  and  I  followed  him. 

The  ladies  were  left  in  silent  amazement ;  and  Ned, 
suspecting,  doubtless,  that  they  were  listening  for  a  laugh 
from  our  chamber,  as  we  entered  it,  continued  the  sub 
ject  with  unabated  gravity,  thus :  "  You  knew  those  two 
men,  did'nt  you  ?" 

"  Where  did  they  live  ?"  enquired  I,  not  a  little  dispos 
ed  to  humor  him. 

"  Why,  they  lived  down  there,  on  Cedar  Creek,  close 
by  Jacob  Denman's — Oh,  I'll  tell  you  who  their  daugh 
ter  Nancy  married — She  married  John  Clarke — you 
knew  him  very  well." 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  I,  "  I  knew  John  Clarke  very  well. — 
His  wife  was  a  most  excellent  woman." 

"  Well,  the  boys  were  just  as  clever,  for  boys,  as  she 
was,  for  a  girl,  except  Bill ;  and  I  never  heard  any  thing 
very  bad  of  him ;  unless  it  was  his  laughing  in  church ; 
that  put  me  more  out  of  conceit  of  him  than  any  thing  I 

ever  knew  of  him Now,  Baldwin,  when  I  go  to 

bed,  I  go  to  bed  to  sleep,  and  not  to  talk  ;  and,  therefore, 
from  the  time  my  head  touches  the  pillow,  there  must  be 
no  more  talking.  Besides,  we  must  take  an  early  start 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  207 

to-morrow,  and  I'm  tired."  So  saying,  he  hopped  into 
his  bed ;  and  I  obeyed  his  injunctions. 

Before  I  followed  his  example,  I  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  casting  an  eye  through  the  cracks  of  the 
partition  to  see  the  effect  of  Ned's  wonderful  story  upon 
the  kind  ladies.  Mrs.  Barney  (it  is  time  to  give  their 
names)  was  setting  in  a  thoughtful  posture  ;  her  left  hand 
supporting  her  chin,  and  her  knee  supporting  her  left 
elbow.  Her  countenance  was  that  of  one  who  suffers 
from  a  slight  tooth-ache.  Mrs.  Shad  leaned  forward, 
resting  her  fore-arm  on  her  knees,  and  looking  into  the 
fire  as  if  she  saw  groups  of  children  playing  in  it.  Mrs. 
Reed,  the  landlady,  who  was  the  fattest  of  the  three,  was 
thinking  and  laughing  alternately  at  short  intervals. 
From  my  bed,  it  required  but  a  slight  change  of  position 
to  see  any  one  of  the  group  at  pleasure. 

I  was  no  sooner  composed  on  my  pillow,  than  the  old 
ladies  drew  their  chairs  close  together,  and  began  the 
following  colloquy  in  a  low  undertone,  which  rose  as  it 
progressed : 

Mrs.  Barney.  Did'nt  that  man  say  them  was  two  men 
that  got  married  to  one  another  ? 

Mrs.  Shad.  It  seemed  to  me  so. 

Mrs.  Reed.  Why  to  be  sure  he  did. — I  know  he  said 
so  ;  for  he  said  what  their  names  was. 

Mrs.  B.  Well,  in  the  name  oj  sense,  what  did  the 
man  mean  by  saying  they  raised  a  fine  pa'cel  o'  chil 
dren? 

Mrs.  R.  Why,  bless  your  heart  and  soul,  honey ! 
that's  what  I've  been  thinkin'  about.  It  seems  mighty 
curious  to  me  some  how  or  other.  I  can't  study  it  out, 
no  how. 

Mrs.  S.  The  man  must  be  jokin',  certainly. 

Mrs.  R.  No,  he  was'nt  jokin' ;  for  I  looked  at  him, 
and  he  was  just  as  much  in  yearnest  as  any  body  I  ever 


208  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

seed ;  and  besides,  no  Christian  man  would  tell  such  a 
story  in  that  solemn  way.  And  did'nt  you  hear  that 
other  man  say  he  knew  their  da'ter  Nancy  ? 

Mrs.  S.  But  la'  messy !  Mis'  Reed,  it  can't  be  so.  It 
does'nt  stand  to  reason,  don't  you  know  it  don't  ? 

Mrs.  R.  Well,  I  would'nt  think  so ;  but  it's  hard  for 
me,  some  how,  to  dispute  a  Christian  man's  word. 

Mrs.  B.  I've  been  thinking  the  thing  all  over  in  my 
mind,  and  I  reckon — now  I  don't  say  it  is  so,  for  I  don't 
know  nothing  at  all  about  it — but  I  reckon  that  one  o' 
them  men  was  a  woman  dress'd  in  men's  clothes  ;  for 
I've  often  hearn  o'  women  doin'  them  things,  and  follow, 
ing  their  True-love  to  the  wars,  and  bein'  a  watin'-boy 
to  'em,  and  all  sich. 

Mrs.  S.  Well,  may  be  it's  some  how  in  that  way — 
but  la'  me  !  'twould  o'  been  obliged  to  been  found  out ; 
don't  you  know  it  would  ?  Only  think  how  many  chil 
dren  she  had.  Now  it  stands  to  reason,  that  at  some 
time  or  other  it  must  have  been  found  out. 

Mrs.  R.  Well,  I'm  an  old  woman  any  how,  and  I 
reckon  the  good  man  won't  mind  what  an  old  woman 
says  to  him  ;  so  bless  the  Lord,  if  I  live  to  see  the  morn- 
ing,  I'll  ask  him  about  it. 

I  knew  that  Ned  was  surpassed  by  no  man  living  in 
extricating  himself  from  difficulties ;  but  how  he  was  to 
escape  from  this,  with  even  tolerable  credit  to  himself,  I 
could  not  devise. 

The  ladies  here  took  leave  of  Ned's  marvellous  story, 
drew  themselves  closely  round  the  fire,  lighted  their 
pipes,  and  proceeded  as  follows : 

Mrs.  B.  list  before  me  and  my  old  man  was  married, 

there  was  a  gal  name  Nancy  Mountcastle,  (puff puff,) 

and  she  was  a  mighty  likely  gal (puff)  I  know'd  her 

mighty  well — she  dressed  herself  up  hi  men's  clothes 
— (puff,  puff,)  .and  followed  Jemmy  Darden  from 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  209 

P'ankatank,  in  KING  AND  QUEEN— (puff)  clean  up  to 
LOUDON. 

Mrs.  S.  (puff,  puff,  puff,  puff,  puff.)  And  did  he  mar- 
ry  her  ? 

Mrs.  B.  (sighing  deeply.)  No :  Jemmy  did'nt  marry 
her — pity  he  had'nt,  poor  thing. 

Mrs.  R.  Well,  I  know'd  a  gal  on  Tar  river,  done  the 
same  thing — (puff,  puff,  puff.)  She  followed  Moses 
Rusher  'way  down  somewhere  in  the  South  State — (puff, 
puff.) 

Mrs.  S.  (puff,  puff,  puff,  puff.)  And  what  did  he  do  ? 

Mrs.  R.  Ah — (puff,  puff,)  Lord  bless  your  soul,  ho- 
ney,  1  can't  tell  you  what  he  did.  Bad  enough. 

Mrs.  B.  Well,  now  it  seems  to  me — I  don't  know 
much  about  it — but  it  seems  to  me  men  don't  like  to 
marry  gals  that  take  on  that  way.  It  looks  like  it  puts 
'em  out  o'  concait  of 'em. 

Mrs.  S.  I  know'd  one  man  that  married  a  woman  that 
followed  him  from  Car'lina  to  this  State ;  but  she  did'nt 
dress  herself  in  men's  clothes.  You  both  know  'em. — 
You  know  Simpson  Trotty's  sister  and  Rachsel's  son, 
Reuben.  'Twas  him  and  his  wife. 

Mrs.  R.  and  Mrs.  B.  Oh  yes,  I  know  'em  mighty  well. 

Mrs.  S.  Well,  it  was  his  wife — she  followed  him  out 
to  this  State. 

Mrs.  B.  I  know'd  'em  all  mighty  well.  Her  da'ter 
Lucy  was  the  littlest  teeny  bit  of  a  thing  when  it  was  born 
I  ever  did  see.  But  they  tell  me  that  when  1  was  born — 
now  I  don't  know  any  thing  about  it  myself— -but  the  old 
folks  used  to  tell  me,  that  when  I  was  born,  they  put  me 
in  a  quart-mug,  and  mought  o'  covered  me  up  in  it. 

Mrs.  S.  The  lackaday ! 

Mrs.  R.  What  ailment  did  Lucy  die  of,  Mis'  Barney  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Why,  first  she  took  the  ager  and  fever,  and 
took  a  'bundance  o'  doctor'r  means  for  that.  And  then 


210  GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C. 

she  got  a  powerful  bad  cough,  and  it  kept  gittin'  worse 
and  worse,  till  at  last  it  turned  into  a  consumption,  and 
she  jist  nat'ly  wasted  away,  till  she  was  nothing  but  skin 
and  bone,  and  she  died ;  but,  poor  creater,  she  died 
mighty  happy  ;  and  I  think  in  my  heart,  she  made 
the  prettiest  corpse,  considering  of  any  body  I  most 
ever  seed. 

Mrs.  R.  and  Mrs.  S.  Emph !  (solemnly.) 

Mrs.  R.  What  did  the  doctors  give  her  for  the  fever 
and  ager  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Oh,  they  gin'  her  a  'bundance  o'  truck — I 
don't  know  what  all ;  and  none  of  'em  holp  her  at  all. 
But  at  last  she  got  over  it,  some  how  or  other.  If  they'd 
have  just  gin'  her  a  sweat  o'  bitter  yerbs,  jist  as  the 
spell  was  comin'  on,  it  would  have  cured  her  right  away. 

Mrs.  R.  Well,  I  reckon  sheep-saffron  the  onliest 
thing  in  nater  for  the  ager. 

Mrs.  B.  I've  always  hearn  it  was  wonderful  in  hives, 
and  measly  ailments. 

Mrs.  R.  Well,  it's  jist  as  good  for  an  ager — it's  a 
powerful  sweat.  Mrs.  Clarkson  told  me,  that  her  cousin 
Betsey's  aunt  Sally's  Nancy  was  cured  sound  and  well 
by  it,  of  a  hard  shakin'  ager. 

Mrs.  S.  Why  you  don't  tell  me  so ! 

Mrs.  R.  Oh  bess  your  heart,  honey,  it's  every  word 
true  ;  for  she  told  me  so  with  her  own  mouth. 

Mrs.  S.  "  A  hard,  hard  shakin'  ager  ! !" 

Mrs.  R.  Oh  yes,  honey,  it's  the  truth. 

Mrs.  S.  Well,  I'm  told  that  if  you'll  wrap  the  inside 
skin  of  an  egg  round  your  little  finger,  and  go  three  days 
reg'lar  to  a  young  persimmon,  and  tie  a  string  round  it, 
and  every  day,  tie  three  knots  in  it,  and  then  not  go  agin 
for  three  days,  that  the  ager  will  leave  you. 

Mrs.  B.  I've  often  hearn  o'  that,  but  I  don't  know 
about  it.  Some  people  don't  believe  in  it. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,    &C.  211 

Mrs.  S.  Well,  Davy  Cooper's  wife  told  me,  she  did'nt 
believe  in  it ;  but  she  tried  it,  and  it  cured  her  sound 
and  well. 

Mrs.  R.  I've  hearn  of  many  folks  bein'  cured  in  that 
way.  And  what  did  they  do  for  Lucy's  cough,  Mis' 
Barney. 

Mrs.  B.  Oh  dear  me,  they  gin'  her  a  powerful  chance 
o'  truck.  I  reckon,  first  and  last,  she  took  at  least  a  pint 
o'  lodimy. 

Mrs.  S.  and  Mrs.  R.  The  law ! 

Mrs.  S.  Why  that  ought  to  have  killed  her,  if  no 
thing  else.  If  they'd  jist  gin'  her  a  little  cumfry  and 
alecampane,  stewed  in  honey,  or  sugar,  or  molasses,  with 
a  little  lump  o'  mutton  suet  or  butter  in  it :  it  would  have 
cured  her  in  two  days  sound  and  well. 

Mrs.  B.  I've  always  counted  cumfry  and  alecampane 
the  lead  of  all  yerbs  for  colds. 

Mrs.  S.  Horehound  and  sugar  's  mazin  good. 

Mrs.  B.  Mighty  good — mighty  good. 

Mrs.  R.  Powerful  good.  I  take  mightily  to  a  sweat 
of  sage-tea,  in  desperate  bad  colds. 

Mrs.  S.  And  so  do  I,  Mis'  Reed.  Indeed  I  have  a 
great  leanin'  to  sweats  of  yerbs,  in  all  ailments  sich  as 
colds,  and  rheumaty  pains,  and  pleurisies,  and  sich — 
they're  wonderful  good.  Old  brother  Smith  came  to 
my  house  from  Bethany  meeting,  in  a  mighty  bad  way, 
with  a  cold,  and  cough,  and  his  throat  and  nose  all  stopt 
up ;  seemed  like  it  would  'most  take  his  breath  away, 
and  it  was  dead  o'  winter,  and  I  had  nothin'  but  dried 
yerbs,  sich  as  camomile,  sage,  penny ryal,  catmint,  hore- 
hound,  and  sich  ;  so  I  put  a  hot  rock  to  his  feet,  and 
made  him  a  large  bowl  o'  'catmint  tea,  and  I  reckon  he 
drank  most  two  quarts  of  it  through  the  night,  and  it  put 
him  in  a  mighty  fine  sweat,  and  loosened  all  thephleem, 
and  opened  all  his  head  ;  and  the  next  morning,  says  he 


212  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

to  me,  says  he,  sister  Shad — you  know  he's  a  mighty 
kind  spoken  man,  and  always  was  so  'fore  he  joined  so- 
ciety ;  and  the  old  man  likes  a  joke  yet  right  well,  the 
old  man  does  ;  but  he's  a  mighty  good  man,  and  I  think 
he  prays  with  greater  libity,  than  most  any  one  of  his 
age  I  most  ever  seed — Don't  you  think  he  does,  Mis' 
Reed? 

Mrs.  R.  Powerful. 

Mrs.  B.  Who  did  he  marry  1 

Mrs.  S*  Why,  he  married — stop,  I'll  tell  you  directly 
Why,  what  does  make  my  old  head  forget  so  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Well,  it  seems  to  me  1  don't  remember  like 
1  used  to.  Did'nt  he  marry  a  Ramsbottom  ? 

Mrs.  R.  No.  Stay,  I'll  tell  you  who  he  married  pre 
sently — Oh,  stay !  why  I'll  tell  you  who  he  married  ! — 
He  married  old  daddy  Johny  Hooer's  da'ter,  Mournin'. 

Mrs.  S.  Why,  la !  messy  on  me,  so  he  did ! 

Mrs.  B.  Why,  did  he  marry  a  Hooer  ? 

Mrs.  S.  Why,  to  be  sure  he  did. — You  knew  Mour 
nin'. 

Mrs.  B.  Oh,  mighty  well ;  but  I'd  forgot  that  brother 
Smith  married  her :  I  really  thought  he  married  a 
Ramsbottom. 

Mrs.  R.  Oh  no,  bless  your  soul,  honey,  he  married 
Mournin'. 

Mrs.  B.  Well,  the  law  me,  I'm  clear  beat ! 

Mrs.  S.  Oh  it's  so,  you  may  be  sure  it  is. 

Mrs.  B.  Emp,  emph,  emph,  emph  !  And  brother 
Smith  married  Mournin'  Hooer !  Well,  I'm  clear  put 
out !  Seems  to  me  I'm  gittin'  mighty  forgetful  some  how. 

Mrs.  S.  Oh  yes,  he  married  Mournin',  and  1  saw  her 
when  she  joined  society.  ' 

Mrs.  B.  Why,  you  don't  tell  me  so ! 

Mrs.  S.  Oh  it's  the  truth.  She  did'nt  join  till  after 
she  was  married,  and  the  church  took  on  mightily  about 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  fcC.  213 

his  marrying  one  out  of  society.     But  after  she  joined 
they  all  got  satisfied. 

Mrs.  R.  Why,  la !  me,  the  seven  stars  is  'way  over 
here ! 

Mrs.  B.  Well,  let's  light  our  pipes,  and  take  a  short 
smoke,  and  go  to  bed.  How  did  you  come  on  raisin' 
chickens  this  year,  Mis'  Shad  ? 

Mrs.  S.  La  messy,  honey !  I  have  had  mighty  bad 
luck.  I  had  the  prettiest  pa'sel  you  most  ever  seed  till 
the  varment  took  to  killin'  rem. 

Mrs.  R.  and  Mrs.  B.  The  varment !  I 

Mrs.  S.  Oh  dear,  yes.  The  hawk  catched  a  power- 
ful  sight  of  them ;  and  then  the  varment  took  to  'em,  and 
nat'ly  took  'em  fore  and  aft,  bodily,  till  they  left  most 
none  at  all  hardly.  Sucky  counted  'em  up  t'other  day, 
and  there  war'nt  but  thirty-nine,  she  said,  countin'  in  the 
old  speckle  hen's  chickens  that  jist  come  off  of  her  nest. 

Mrs.  R.  and  Mrs.  B.  Humph-h-h-h- ! 

Mrs.  R.  Well,  I've  had  bad  luck  too.  Billy's  hound- 
dogs  broke  up  most  all  my  nests. 

Mrs.  B.  Well,  so  they  did  me,  Mis'  Reed.  I  always 
did  despise  a  hound-dog  upon  the  face  of  yea'th. 

Mrs.  R.  Oh,  they're  the  bawllinest,  squallinest,  thiev- 
ishest  things  ever  was  about  one  ;  but  Billy  will  have 
'em,  and  I  think  in  my  soul  his  old  Troup's  the  beat  of 
all  creators  I  ever  seed  in  all  my  born  days  a  suckin'  or 
hen's  eggs — He's  clean  most  broke  me  up  entirely. 

Mrs.  S.  The  lackaday  ! 

Mrs.  R.  And  them  that  was  hatched  out,  some  took 
to  takin'  the  gaps,  and  some  the  pip,  and  one  ailment  or 
other,  till  they  most  all  died. 

Mrs.  S.  Well  I  reckon  there  must  be  somethin'  in 

the  season  this  year,  that  an't  good  for  fowls  ;  for  Larkin 

Goodman's  brother  Jimme's  wife's  aunt  Penny,  told  me, 

she  lost  most  all  her  fowls  with  different  sorts  of  ailments, 

r2 


214  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

the  like  of  which  she  never  seed  before — They'd  jist  go 
'long  lookin,  right  well,  and  tilt  right  over  backwards, 
(Mrs.  B.  The  law  !)  and  die  right  away,  (Mrs.  R.  Did 
ever !)  with  a  sort  o'  somethin'  like  the  blind  staggers. 

Mrs.  B.  and  Mrs.  R.  Messy  on  me ! 

Mrs.  B.  I  reckon  they  must  have  eat  somethin'  did'nt 
agree  with  them. 

Mrs*  S.  No  they  did'nt,  for  she  fed  'em  every  mornin' 
with  her  own  hand. 

Mrs.  B.  Well,  it's  mighty  curious  ! 

A  short  pause  ensued,  which  was  broken  by  Mrs. 
Barney,  with — "  And  brother  Smith  married  Mournin' 
Hooer !"  It  came  like  an  opiate  upon  my  senses,  and  I 
dropt  asleep. 

The  next  morning,  when  we  rose  from  our  beds,  we 
found  the  good  ladies  sitting  round  the  fire  just  as  1  left 
them,  for  they  rose  long  before  us. 

Mrs.  Barney  was  just  in  the  act  of  ejaculating,  "  And 
brother  Smith  married  Mournin'  "• — when  she  was  inter 
rupted  by  our  entry  into  the  dining  room.  We  were 
hardly  seated,  before  Mrs.  Reed  began  to  verify  her 

promise.  "  Mr. ,"  said  she  to  Ned,  "  did'nt  you 

say  last  night,  that  them  was  two  men  that  got  married 
to  one  another  ?" 

tt  Yes  madam,"  said  Ned. 

"  And  did'nt  you  say  they  raised  a  fine  pa'cel  of  chil 
dren  r 

"  Yes  madam,  except  Billy. — I  said,  you  know,  that 
he  was  a  little  wild." 

"  Well,  yes ;  I  know  you  said  Billy  was*nt  as  clever 
as  the  rest  of  them.  But  we  old  women  were  talking 
about  it  last  night  after  you  went  out,  and  none  of  us 
could  make  it  out,  how  they  could  have  children  ;  and 
I  said,  I  reckoned  you  would'nt  mind  an  old  woman's 
chat ;  and,  therefore,  that  I  would  ask  you  how  it  could 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  215 

be  ?    I  suppose  you  won't  mind  telling  an  old  woman 
how  it  was." 

"  Certainly  not,  madam.     They  were  both  widowers 
before  they  fell  in  love  with  each  other  and  got  married." 

"  The  lack-a-day !     I  wonder  none  of  us  thought  oj 
that.     And  they  had  children  before  they  got  married  ?" 

"  Yes   madam ;    they  had  none   afterwards  that  I 
heard  of." 

We  were  here  informed  that  our  horses  were  in  wait 
ing,  arid  we  bad  the  good  ladies  farewell. 

BALDWIN. 


THE  SHOOTING  MATCH. 

Shooting  matches  are  probably  nearly  coeval  with 
the  colonization  of  Georgia.  They  are  still  common 
throughout  the  Southern  States ;  though  they  are  not  as 
common  as  they  were  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  ago. 
Chance  led  me  to  one  about  a  year  ago.  I  was  travel 
ling  in  one  of  the  north-eastern  counties,  when  1  overtook 
a  swarthy,  bright-eyed,  smerky  little  fellow,  riding  a 
small  poney,  and  bearing  on  his  shoulder  a  long  heavy 
rifle,  which,  judging  from  its  looks,  I  should  say  had 
done  service  in  Morgan's  corps. 

"  Good  morning,  sir !"  said  I,  reining  up  my  horse  as 
I  came  beside  him. 

"  How  goes  it  stranger  ?"  said  he,  with  a  tone  of  inde 
pendence  and  self-confidence,  that  awaked  my  curiosity 
to  know  a  little  of  his  character. 


216  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

"Going  driving?"  inquired  I. 

"  Not  exactly,"  replied  he,  surveying  my  horse  with 
a  quizical  smile,  "  I  have  n't  been  a  driving  by  myself 
for  a  year  or  two,  and  my  nose  has  got  so  bad  lately  I 
can't  carry  a  cold  trail  without  hounds  to  help  me." 

Alone,  and  without  hounds,  as  he  was,  the  question 
was  rather  a  silly  one ;  but  it  answered  the  purpose  for 
which  it  was  put,  which  was  only  to  draw  him  into  con- 
versation,  and  I  proceeded  to  make  as  decent  a  retreat 
as  I  could. 

"  I  did  n't  know,"  said  I,  "  but  that  you  were  going 
to  meet  the  huntsmen,  or  going  to  your  stand." 

"  Ah,  sure  enough,"  rejoined  he,  "  that  mout  be  a  bee, 
as  the  old  woman  said  when  she  killed  a  wasp.  It  seems 
to  me  I  ought  to  know  you." 

"  Well,  if  you  ought,  why  don't  you  ? 

"  What  mout  your  name  be  ?" 

"  It  might  be  any  thing,"  said  I,  with  borrowed  wit ; 
for  I  knew  my  man,  and  knew  what  kind  of  conversa 
tion  would  please  him  most. 

"Well,  what  is  it  then?" 

"It  is,  Hall,"  said  I ;  "but  you  know  it  might  as  well 
have  been  any  thing  else." 

«  Pretty  digging  !"  said  he.  "  I  find  you're  not  the 
fool  I  took  you  to  be ;  so  here's  to  a  better  acquaintance 
with  you." 

«  With  all  my  heart,' '  returned  I ;  "  but  you  must  be 
as  clever  as  I've  been,  and  give  me  your  name." 

"  To  be  sure  I  will,  my  old  coon — take  it — take  it, 
and  welcome.  Any  thing  else  about  me  you'd  like  to 
have?" 

«  No,"  said  I,  "  there's  nothing  else  about  you  worth 
having." 

"  Oh,  yes  there  is,  stranger !  Do  you  see  this  ?"  hold 
ing  up  his  ponderous  rifle  with  an  ease  that  astonished 


GEOKGIA  SCENES,  &C.  217 

me.  "  If  you  will  go  with  me  to  the  shooting  match,  and 
see  me  knock  out  the  bulVs*eye  with  her  a  few  times, 
you'll  agree  the  old  Moap-stick's  worth  something  when 
Billy  Curlew  puts  his  shoulder  to  her." 

This  short  sentence  was  replete  with  information  to 
me.  It  taught  me  that  my  companion  was  Billy  Cur 
lew  ;  that  he  was  going  to  a  Shooting  match ;  that  he 
called  his  rifle  the  Soap-stick,  and  that  he  was  very  con 
fident  of  winning  beef  with  her ;  or,  which  is  nearly,  but 
not  quite  the  same  thing,  driving  the  cross  with  her. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "if  the  shooting  match  is  not  too  far 
out  of  my  way,  I'll  go  to  it  with  pleasure." 

"  Unless  your  way  lies  through  the  woods  from  here," 
said  Billy,  "  it  '11  not  be  much  out  of  your  way  ;  for  it's 
only  a  mile  ahead  of  us,  and  there  is  no  other  road  for 
you  to  take,  till  you  get  there ;  and  as  that  thing  you're 
riding  in,  an't  well  suited  to  fast  travelling,  among 
brushy  knobs,  I  reckon  you  won't  lose  much  by  go 
ing  by.  I  reckon  you  hardly  ever  was  at  a  shooting 
match,  stranger,  from  the  cut  of  your  coat?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  returned  I,  "  many  a  time.  I  won  beef  at 
one,  when  I  was  hardly  old  enough  to  hold  a  shot-gun 
off-hand." 

"  Children  don't  go  to  shooting  matches  about  here," 
said  he,  with  a  smile  of  incredulity.  "  I  never  heard  of 
but  one  that  did,  and  he  was  a  little  swinge-cak. — He 
was  born  a  shooting,  and  killed  squirrels  before  he  was 
weaned." 

"  Nor  did  /  ever  hear  of  but  one,"  replied  I,  "  and 
that  one  was  myself." 

"  And  where  did  you  win  beef  so  young,  stranger  ?" 

"At  Berry  Adams'." 

"  Why  stop,  stranger,  let  me  look  at  you  good  !  Is 
your  name  Lyman  Hall  ?" 

"  The  very  same,"  said  I. 


218  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

"  Well,  dang  my  buttons,  if  you  an't  the  very  boy  my 
daddy  used  to  tell  me  about.  I  was  too  young  to  recol 
lect  you  myself;  but  I've  heard  daddy  talk  about  you 
many  a  time.  I  believe  mammy's  got  a  neck-handker 
chief  now,  that  daddy  won  on  your  shooting  at  Collen 
Reid's  store,  when  you  were  hardly  knee  high.  Come 
along  Lyman,  and  I'll  go  my  death  upon  you  at  tke 
shooting  match,  with  the  old  Soap- stick  at  your  shoul 
der." 

"  Ah,  Billy,"  said  I,  "  the  old  Soap-stick  will  do  much 
better  at  your  own  shoulder.  It  was  my  mother's  no 
tion,  that  sent  me  to  the  shooting  match  at  Berry  Adams' ; 
and  to  tell  you  the  honest  truth,  it  was  altogether  a 
chance  shot  that  made  me  win  beef;  but  that  was  n't 
generally  known ;  and  most  every  body  believed  that  I 
was  carried  there  on  account  of  my  skill  in  shooting  ; 
and  my  fame  was  spread  far  and  wide,  I  well  remember. 
I  remember  too,  perfectly  well,  your  father's  bet  on  me, 
at  the  store.  He  was  at  the  shooting  match,  and  nothing 
could  make  him  believe,  but  that  1  was  a  great  shot  with 
a  rifle,  as  well  as  a  shot-gun.  Bet  he  would,  on  me,  in 
spite  of  all  I  could  say ;  though  I  assured  him,  that  I 
had  never  shot  a  rifle  in  my  life.  It  so  happened  too, 
that  there  were  but  two  bullets,  or  rather,  a  bullet  and  a 
half;  and  so  confident  was  your  father  in  my  skill,  that 
he  made  me  shoot  the  half  bullet ;  and,  strange  to  tell, 
by  another  chance  shot  I  like  to  have  drove  the  cross, 
and  won  his  bet." 

"  Now  I  know  you're  the  very  chap  ;  for  I  heard 
daddy  tell  that  very  thing  about  the  half  bullet.  Don't 
say  any  thing  about  it,  Lyman,  and  durn  my  old  shoes  it 
I  don't  tare  the  lint  off  the  boys  with  you  at  the  shooting 
match.  They'll  never  'spect  such  a  looking  man  as  you 
are  of  knowing  any  thing  about  a  rifle.  I'll  risk  your 
chance  shots." 


GEORGIA   SCENES,   &C.  219 

I  soon  discovered  that  the  father  had  eaten  sour 
grapes,  and  the  son's  teeth  were  on  edge ;  for  Billy  was 
just  as  incorrigibly  obstinate,  in  his  belief  of  my  dexterity 
with  a  rifle,  as  his  father  had  been  before  him. 

We  soon  reached  the  place  appointed  for  the  shooting 
match.  It  went  by  the  name  of  Sims'  Cross  Roads ; 
because,  here  two  roads  intersected  each  other ;  and 
because,  from  the  time  that  the  first  had  been  laid  out, 
Archibald  Sims  had  resided  there.  Archibald  had  been 
a  Justice  of  the  Peace  in  his  day ;  (and  where  is  the  man 
of  his  age  in  Georgia  who  has  not?)  consequently  he 
was  called  'Squire  Sims.  It  is  the  custom  in  this  State, 
when  a  man  has  once  acquired  a  title,  civil  or  military, 
to  force  it  upon  him  as  long  as  he  lives  ;  hence  the  count 
less  number  of  titled  personages,  who  are  introduced  in 
these  sketches. 

We  stopt  at  the  'Squire's  door.  Billy  hastily  dismount 
ed,  gave  me  the  shake  of  the  hand  which  he  had  been 
reluctantly  reserving  for  a  mile  back  ;  and,  leading  me 
up  to  the  'Squire,  thus  introduced  me  :  "  Uncle  Archy, 
this  is  Lyman  Hall ;  and  for  all  you  see  him  in  these 
fine  clothes,  he's  a  swinge-cat — a  darn  sight  cleverer 
fellow  than  he  looks  to  be.  Wait  till  you  see  him  lift 
the  old  Soap-stick,  and  draw  a  bead  upon  the  bull's-eye. 
You  gwine  to  see  fun  here  to-day — Don't  say  nothing 
about  it." 

"Well,  Mr.  Swinge-cat,"  said  the  'Squire,  "  here's  to 
a  better  acquaintance  with  you,"  offering  me  his  hand. 

"  How  goes  it,  uncle  Archy  ?"  said  I,  taking  his  hand 
warmly  ;  (for  I  am  always  free  and  easy  with  those  who 
are  so  with  me ;  and  in  this  course  I  rarely  fail  to 
please) — "  How's  the  old  woman  ?" 

"  Egad,"  said  the  'Squire,  chuckling,  «« there  you're 
too  hard  for  me  ;  for  she  died  two  and  twenty  years  ago, 
and  I  have  n't  heard  a  word  from  her  since." 


220  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

"What!  and  you  never  married  again!" 

"Never,  as  God's  my  Judge!"  (a  solemn  assevera 
tion  truly,  upon  so  light  a  subject.) 

"  Well,  that's  not  my  fault." 

"  No,  nor  it's  not  mine  wither,"  said  the  'Squire. 

Here  we  were  interrupted  by  the  cry  of  another  Ran- 
cey  Sniffle — "  Hello  here  !  All  you  as  wish  to  put  in  for 
the  shoot'n  match,  come  on  here !  for  the  putt'n  in's 
riddy  te  begin." 

About  sixty  persons,  including  mere  spectators,  had 
collected  ;  the  most  of  whom  were  more  or  less  obedi 
ent  to  the  call  of  Mealy  Whitecotton — for  that  was  the 
name  of  the  self-constituted  commander-in-chief.  Some 
hastened,  and  some  loitered,  as  they  desired  to  be  first 
or  last  on  the  list ;  for  they  shoot  in  the  order  in  which 
their  names  are  entered. 

The  beef  was  not  present,  nor  is  it  ever  upon  such 
occasions  ;  but  several  of  the  company  had  seen  it,  who 
all  concurred  in  the  opinion  that  it  was  a  good  beef,  and 
well  worth  the  price  that  was  set  upon  it — eleven  dollars. 
A  general  enquiry  ran  round,  in  order  to  form  some 
opinion  as  to  the  number  of  shots  that  would  be  taken ; 
for,  of  course,  the  price  of  a  shot  is  cheapened  in  propor 
tion  to  the  increase  of  that  number.  It  was  soon  ascer 
tained  that  not  more  than  twenty  persons  would  take 
chances  ;  but  these  twenty  agreed  to  take  the  number 
of  shots,  at  twenty-five  cents  each. 

The  competitors  now  began  to  give  in  their  names  ; 
some  for  one,  some  for  two,  three,  and  a  few  for  as  many 
as  four  shots. 

Billy  Curlew  hung  back  to  the  last;  and  when 
the  list  was  offered  to  him,  five  shots  remained  undis 
posed  of. 

"  How  many  shots  left  ?"  inquired  Billy. 

"  Five  :"  was  the  reply. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  221 

«  Well,  I  take  'em  all.  Put  down  four  shots  to  me, 
and  one  to  Lyman  Hall,  paid  for  by  William  Curlew." 

I  was  thunder  struck — not  at  his  proposition  to  pay 
for  my  shot,  because  I  knew  that  Billy  meant  it  as  a 
token  of  friendship,  and  he  would  have  been  hurt  if  I 
had  refused  to  let  him  do  me  this  favor ;  but  at  the  un 
expected  announcement  of  my  name  as  a  competitor  for 
beef,  at  least  one  hundred  miles  from  the  place  of  my 
residence.  I  was  prepared  for  a  challenge  from  Billy 
to  some  of  his  neighbors  for  a  private  match  upon  me  ; 
but  not  for  this. 

I  therefore  protested  against  his  putting  in  for  me,  and 
urged  every  reason  to  dissuade  him  from  it,  that  I  could, 
without  wounding  his  feelings. 

"  Put  it  down !"  said  Billy,  with  the  authority  of  an 
Emperor,  and  with  a  look  that  spoke  volumes  intelligible 
to  every  by-stander — "  Reckon  I  don't  know  what  I'm 
about  ?"  Then  wheeling  off,  and  muttering  in  an  under, 
self-confident  tone — "  Dang  old  Roper,"  continued  he, 
"  if  he  don't  knock  that  cross  to  the  north  corner  of  crea 
tion  and  back  again  before  a  cat  can  lick  her  foot." 

Had  I  been  the  king  of  the  cat  tribe,  they  could  not 
have  regarded  me  with  more  curious  attention  than  did 
the  whole  company  from  this  moment.  Every  inch  of 
me  was  examined  with  the  nicest  scrutiny  ;  and  some 
plainly  expressed  by  their  looks,  that  they  never  would 
have  taken  me  for  such  a  bite.  I  saw  no  alternative 
but  to  throw  myself  upon  a  third  chance  shot ;  for  though 
by  the  rules  of  the  sport  I  would  have  been  allowed  to 
shoot  by  proxy,  by  all  the  rules  of  good  breeding  I  was 
bound  to  shoot  in  person.  It  would  have  been  unpardon 
able,  to  disappoint  the  expectations,  which  had  been 
raised  on  me.  Unfortunately  too,  for  me,  the  match 
differed  in  one  respect  from  those  which  I  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  attending  in  my  younger  days.  In  olden 


222  GEORGIA   SCENES,  icC. 

time  the  contest  was  carried  on  chiefly  with  shot-guns, 
a  generic  term  which,  in  those  days,  embraced  three 
descriptions  of  fire-arms — Indian-traders,  (a  long,  cheap, 
but  sometimes  excellent  kind  of  gun,  that  mother  Britain 
used  to  send  hither  for  traffic  with  the  Indians,) the  large 
Musket,  and  the  Shot-gun,  properly  so  called.  Rifles 
were,  however,  always  permitted  to  compete  with  them, 
under  equitable  restrictions.  These  were,  that  they 
should  be  fired  off-hand,  while  the  shot-guns  were  al 
lowed  a  rest,  the  distance  being  equal;  or  that  the 
distance  should  be  one  hundred  yards  for  the  rifle, 
to  sixty,  for  the  shot-gun,  the  mode  of  firing  being 
equal. 

But  this  was  a  match  of  rifles  exclusively ;  and  these 
are  by  far  the  most  common  at  this  time. 

Most  of  the  competitors  fire  at  the  same  target ;  which 
is  usually  a  board  from  nine  inches  to  a  foot  wide, 
charred  on  one  side  as  black  as  it  can  be  made  by  fire 
without  impairing  materially  the  uniformity  of  its  surface ; 
on  the  darkened  side  of  which  is  pegged,  a  square  piece 
of  white  paper,  which  is  larger  or  smaller,  according  to 
the  distance  at  which  it  is  to  be  placed  from  the  marks 
men.  This  is  almost  invariably  sixty  yards,  and  for  it, 
the  paper  is  reduced  to  about  two  and  a  half  inches 
square.  Out  of  the  centre  of  it  is  cut  a  rhombus  of  about 
the  width  of  an  inch,  measured  diagonally — this  is  the 
lulTs-eye,  or  diamond,  as  the  marksmen  choose  to  call 
it :  in  the  centre  of  this  is  the  cross.  But  every  man 
is  permitted  to  fix  his  target  to  his  own  taste  ;  and  ac 
cordingly,  some  remove  one  fourth  of  the  paper,  cutting 
from  the  centre  of  the  square  to  the  two  lower  corners ; 
so  as  to  leave  a  large  angle  opening  from  the  centre 
downwards ;  while  others  reduce  the  angle  more  or  less .: 
but  it  is  rarely  the  case  that  all  are  not  satisfied  with  one 
of  these  figures. 


GEORGIA  SCENES,  &C.  223 

The  beef  is  divided  into  five  prizes,  or,  as  they  are 
commonly  termed,  five  quarters — the  hide  and  tallow 
counting  as  one.  For  several  years  after  the  revolu 
tionary  war,  a  sixth  was  added ;  the  lead  which  was  shot 
in  the  match.  This  was  the  prize  of  the  sixth  best  shot ; 
and  it  used  to  be  carefully  extracted  from  the  board,  or 
tree,  in  which  it  was  lodged,,  and  afterwards  remoulded. 
But  this  grew  out  of  the  exigency  of  the  times,  and  has, 
I  "believe,  been  long  since  abandoned  every  where. 

The  three  master  shots,  and  rivals,  were  Moses  Firm- 
by,  Larkin  Spivey  and  Billy  Curlew — to  whom  was 
added,  upon  this  occasion,  by  common  consent,  and  with 
awful  forebodings — your  humble  servant. 

The  target  was  fixed,  at  an  elevation  of  about  three 
feet  from  the  ground  ;  and  the  judges  (Captain  Turner 
and  Squire  Porter)  took  their  stands  by  it,  joined  by 
about  half  the  spectators. 

The  first  name  on  the  catalogue  was  Mealy  White- 
cotton.  Mealy  stept  out,  rifle  in  hand,  and  toed  the  mark. 
His  rifle  was  about  three  inches  longer  than  himself,  and 
near  enough  his  own  thickness  to  make  the  remark  of 
Darby  Chislom,  as  he  stept  out,  tolerably  appropriate — 
"  Here  comes  the  corn-stock  and  the  sucker !"  said  Darby. 

"  Kiss  my  foot !"  said  Mealy.  "  The  way  I'll  creep 
into  that  bull-eye  's  a  fact." 

"  You'd  better  creep  into  your  hind-sight,"  said  Darby. 

Mealy  raised,  and  fired. 

"  A  pretty  good  shot !  MeaL  "  said  one.  "  Yes,  a 
blamed  good  shot !"  said  a  second.  "  Well  done  Meal !" 
said  a  third. 

I  was  rejoiced  when  one  of  the  company  enquired, 
"  Where  is  it  ?"  for  1  could  hardly  believe  they  were 
founding  these  remarks  upon  the  evidence  of  their  sen 
ses.  "  Just  on  the  right  hand  side  of  the  bull's-eye,"  was 
the  reply. 


224  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

I  looked  with  all  the  power  of  my  eyes  ;  but  was  un 
able  to  discover  the  least  change  in  the  surface  of  the 
paper.  Their  report,  however,  was  true — so  much 
keener  is  the  vision  of  a  practiced  than  unpracticed  eye. 

The  next  in  order  was  Hiram  Baugh.  Hiram  was 
like  some  race-horses  which  I  have  seen — he  was  too 
good,  not  to  contend  for  every  prize,  and  too  good  for 
nothing  ever  to  win  one. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  as  he  came  to  the  mark,  "  I 
don't  say  that  Til  win  beef;  but  if  my  piece  don't  blow, 
I'll  eat  the  paper  ;  or  be  mighty  apt  to  do  it,  if  you'll 
b'lieve  my  racket.  My  powder  are  not  good  powder, 
gentlemen — I  bought  it  ihum  (from)  Zeb.  Daggett,  and 
gin  him  three  quarters  of  a  dollar  a  pound  for  it ;  but  it 
are  not  what  1  call  good  powder,  gentlemen  ;  but  if  old 
Buck-killer  burns  it  clear,  the  boy  you  call  Hiram 
Baugh  eat's  paper,  or  comes  mighty  near  it." 

"  Well,  blaze  away,"  said  Mealy,  "  and  be to 

you,  and  Zeb.  Daggett  and  your  powder  and  Buck-killer, 
and  your  powder-horn  and  shot-pouch  to  boot !  How 
long  you  gwine  stand  thar  talking  'fore  you  shoot  ?" 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Hiram,  « 1  can  talk  a  little  and 
shoot  a  little  too  ;  but  that's  nothin' — Here  goes  !" 

Hiram  assumed  the  figure  of  a  note  of  interrogation — 
took  a  long  sight,  and  fired. 

"  I've  eat  paper,"  said  he,  at  the  crack  of  the  gun, 
without  looking,  or  seeming  to  look  towards  the  target. 
"  Buck -killer  made  a  clear  racket.  Where  am  I,  gen 
tlemen  ?" 

"  You're  just  between  Mealy  and  the  diamond,"  was 
the  reply. 

"  I  said  I'd  eat  paper,  and  I've  done  it ;  have'nt  I, 
gentlemen  ?" 

"  And  'spose  you  have  !"  said  Mealy,  "  what  do  that 
'mount  to  ?  You'll  not  win  beef,  and  never  did." 


GEOK61A  SCENES,   &C.  225 

«  Be  that  as  it  mout  be,  I've  beat  Meal.  'Cotton  mighty 
easy ;  and  the  boy  you  call  Hiram  Baugh  are  able  to 
do  it." 

"  And  what  do  that  'mount  to  1     Who  the  devil  an't 
able  to  beat  Meal.  'Cotton  !     I  don't  makes  no  pretense 
of  bein'  nothin'  great,  no  how  :  but  you  always  makes 
out  as  if  you  were  gwine  to  keep  'em  makin'  crosses  for 
you   constant ;  and  then  do  nothin'  but  *  eat  paper1  at 
last ;  and  that's  a  long  way  from  eatin?  beef,  'eordin'  to 
Meal.  'Cotton's  notions,  as  you  call  him." 
Simon  Stow  was  now  called  on. 
"Oh  Lord!"    exclaimed  two  or  three:    "Now  we 
have  it.     It  '11  take  him  as  long  to  shoot  as  it  would 
take  Squire  Dobbins  to  run  round  a  track  o'  land." 
"  Good-by,  boys,n  said  Bob  Martin. 
"  Where  you  going  Bob?" 

"  Going  to  gather  in  my  crop — I'll  be  back  agin  though 
by  the  time  Sime.  Stow  shoots." 

Simon  was  used  to  all  this,  and  therefore  it  did  not  dis 
concert  him  in  the  least.  He  went  off  and  brought  his 
own  target,  and  set  it  up  with  his  own  hand. 

He  then  wiped  out  his  rifle — rubbed  the  pan  with  his 
hat — drew  a  piece  of  tow  through  the  touch-hole  with 
his  wiper — filled  his  charger  with  great  care — poured 
the  powder  into  the  rifle  with  equal  caution — shoved  in 
with  his  finger  the  two  or  three  vagrant  grains  that 
lodged  round  the  mouth  of  his  piece — took  out  a  handful 
of  bullets — looked  them  all  over  carefully— selected  one 
without  flaw  or  wrinkle — drew  out  his  patching — found 
the  most  even  part  of  it — sprung  open  the  grease-box  in 
the  breech  of  his  rifle — took  up  jnst  so  much  grease — 
distributed  it  with  great  equality  over  the  chosen  part  of 
his  patching — laid  it  over  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle,  grease 
side  down — placed  his  ball  upon  it — pressed  it  a  little — 
then  took  it  up  and  turned  the  neck  a  little  more  perpen- 
s2 


226  GEORGIA   SCENES,  ScC. 

dicularly  downward — placed  his  knife-handle  on  it — 
just  buried  it  in  the- mouth  of  the  rifle — cut  off  the  re 
dundant  patching  just  above  the  bullet — looked  at  it,  and 
shook  his  head,  in  token  that  he  had  cut  off  too  much  or 
too  little,  no  one  knew  which — sent  down  the  ball — 
measured  the  contents  of  his  gun  with  his  first  and  second 
fingers,  on  the  protruding  part  of  the  ramrod — shook  his 
head  again,  to  signify  there  was  too  much  or  too  little 
powder — primed  carefully — placed  an  arched  piece  of 
tin  over  the  hind  sight  to  shade  it — took  his  place — got  a 
friend  to  hold  his  hat  over  the  fore-sight  to  shade  it — took 
a  very  long  sight — fired — and  did'nt  even  eat  the  paper. 

"  My  piece  was  badly  loadned"  said  Simon,  when  he 
learned  the  place  of  his  ball. 

"  Oh,  you  did'nt  take  time,"  said  Mealy.  "  No  man 
can  shoot  that's  in  such  a  hurry  as  you  is.  I'd  hardly 
got  to  sleep  'fore  I  heard  the  crack  o'  the  gun." 

The  next  was  Moses  Firmby.  He  was  a  tall,  slim 
man,  of  rather  sallow  complexion ;  and  it  is  a  singular 
fact,  that  though  probably  no  part  of  the  world  is  more 
healthy  than  the  mountainous  region  of  Georgia,  the 
mountaineers  have  not  generally  robust  frames  or  fine 
complexions  :  they  are,  however,  almost  inexhaustible 
by  toil. 

Moses  kept  us  not  long  in  suspense.  His  rifle  was 
already  charged,  and  he  fixed  it  upon  the  target,  with 
a  steadiness  of  nerve  and  aim  that  was  astonishing  to 
me  and  alarming  to  all  the  rest.  A  few  seconds,  and 
the  report  of  his  rifle  broke  the  deathlike  silence  whicl^ 
prevailed. 

«  No  great  harm  done  yet,"  said  Spivey,  manifestly 
relieved  from  anxiety  by  an  event  which  seemed  to  me 
better  calculated  to  produce  despair.  Firmby 's  ball  had 
cut  out  the  lower  angle  of  the  diamond,  directly  on  a 
right  line  with  the  cross. 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  227 

Three  or  four  followed  him  without  bettering  his  shot ; 
all  of  whom,  however,  with  one  exception,  "  eat  the 
paper." 

It  now  came  to  Spivey's  turn.  There  was  nothing 
remarkable  in  his  person  or  manner.  He  took  his  place, 
lowered  his  rifle  slowly  from  a  perpendicular,  until  it 
came  on  a  line  with  the  mark — held  it  there  like  a  vise 
for  a  moment,  and  fired. 

"  Pretty  sevigrous,  but  nothing  killing  yet,"  said  Billy 
Curlew,  as  he  learned  the  place  of  Spivey's  ball. 

Spivey's  ball  had  just  broken  the  upper  angle  of  the 
diamond ;  beating  Firmby  about  half  its  width. 

A  few  more  shots,  in  which  there  was  nothing  remark 
able,  brought  us  to  Billy  Curlew.  Billy  stept  out  with 
much  confidence ;  and  brought  the  Soap-stick  to  an 
order,  while  he  deliberately  rolled  up  his  shirt  sleeves. 
Had  I  judged  of  Billy's  chance  of  success  from  the  looks 
of  his  gun,  I  should  have  said  it  was  hopeless.  The 
stock  of  Soap-stick  seemed  to  have  been  made  with  a 
case  knife ;  and  had  it  been,  the  tool  would  have  been 
but  a  poor  apology  for  its  clumsy  appearance.  An 
augur  hole  in  the  breech,  served  for  a  grease-box — a 
cotton  string  assisted  a  single  screw  in  holding  on  the 
lock  ;  and  the  thimbles  were  made,  one  of  brass,  one  of 
iron,  and  one  of  tin. 

"  Where's  Lark.  Spivey's  bullet  ?"  called  out  Billy  to 
the  judges,  as  he  finished  rolling  up  his  sleeves. 

"  About  three  quarters  of  an  inch  from  the  cross," 
was  the  reply. 

"  Well,  clear  the  way !  the  Soap-stick's  coming,  and 
she'll  be  along  in  there  among  'em  presently." 

Billy  now  planted  himself  astraddle,  like  an  inverted 
V — shot  forward  his  left  hip — drew  his  body  back  to  an 
angle  of  about  forty-five  degrees  with  the  plane  of  the 
horizon — brought  his  cheek  down  close  to  the  breech  of 


228  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

old  Soap-stick,  and  fixed  her  upon  the  mark  with  un- 
trembling  hand.  His  sight  was  long,  and  the  swelling 
muscles  of  his  left  arm  led  me  to  believe  that  he  was 
lessening  his  chance  of  success,  with  every  half  second 
that  he  kept  it  burdened  with  his  ponderous  rifle  ;  but  it 
neither  flagged  nor  wavered  until  Soap-stick  made  her 
report. 

"  Where  am  I  ?"  said  Billy,  as  the  smoke  rose  from 
before  his  eye. 

"  You've  jist  touched  the  cross  on  the  lower  side," 
was  the  reply  of  one  of  the  judges. 

"  I  was  afraid  I  was  drawing  my  bead  a  leeile  too 
fine,"  said  Billy.  "Now,  Lyman,  you  see  what  the 
Soap-stick  can  do. — Take  her,  and  show  the  boys  how 
you  used  to  do  when  you  was  a  baby." 

I  begged  to  reserve  my  shot  to  the  last ;  pleading, 
rather  sophistically,  that  it  was  in  point  of  fact,  one  of 
Billy's  shots.  My  plea  was  rather  indulged  than  sus 
tained,  and  the  marksmen  who  had  taken  more  than  one 
shot,  commenced  the  second  round.  This  round  was  a 
manifest  "improvement  upon  the  first.  The  cross  was 
driven  three  times :  once  by  Spivey,  once  by  Firmby, 
and  once  by  no  less  a  personage  than  Mealy  Whitecot- 
ton,  whom  chance  seemed  to  favor  for  this  time,  merely 
that  he  might  retaliate  upon  Hiram  Baugh;  and  the 
bull's-eye  was  disfigured  out  of  all  shape. 

The  third  and  fourth  rounds  were  shot.  Billy  dis 
charged  his  last  shot,  which  left  the  rights  of  parties 
thus:  Billy  Curlew  first  and  fourth  choice,  Spivey  se 
cond,  Firmby  third,  arid  Whitecotton  fifth.  Some  of 
my  readers  may  perhaps  be  curious  to  learn,  how  a  dis 
tinction  comes  to  be  made  between  several,  all  of  whom 
drive  the  cross.  The  distinction  is  perfectly  natural  and 
equitable.  Threads  are  stretched  from  the  uneffaced 
parts  of  the  once  intersecting  lines,  by  means  of  which 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C,  229 

the  original  position  of  the  cross  is  precisely  ascertained. 
Each  bullet-hole  being  nicely  pegged  up  as  it  is  made,  it 
is  easy  to  ascertain  its  circumference.  To  this,  I  believe 
they  usually,  if  not  invariably,  measure,  where  none  of 
the  balls  touch  the  cross ;  but  if  the  cross  be  driven,  they 
measure  from  it  to  the  centre  of  the  bullet-hole.  To 
make  a  draw  shot,  therefore,  between  two,  whb  drive 
the  cross,  it  is  necessary  that  the  centre  of  both  balls 
should  pass  directly  through  the  cross — a  thing  that 
very  rarely  happens. 

The  Bite  alone  remained  to  shoot.     Billy  wiped  out 

his  rifle  carefully,  loaded  her  to  the  top  of  his  skill,  and 

handed  her  to  me.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  Lyman  draw  a 
fine  bead,  but  not  too  fine ;  for  Soap-stick  bears  up  her 
ball  well.  Take  care  and  don't  touch  the  trigger,  until 
you've  got  your  bead ;  for  she's  spring-trigger'd  and 
goes  mighty  easy  :  but  you  hold  her  to  the  place  you 
want  her,  and  if  she  don't  go  there  dang  old  Roper." 

I  took  hold  of  Soap-stick,  and  lapsed  immediately  into 
the  most  hopeless  despair.  I  am  sure  I  never  handled 
as  heavy  a  gun  in  all  my  life.  "Why  Billy,"  said  I, 
"  you  little  mortal  you !  what  do  you  use  such  a  gun  as 
this  for?" 

"Look  at  the  bull's-eye  yonder !"  said  he. 

'•  True,"  said  I,  "  but  /  can't  shoot  her — it  is  impossi 
ble." 

"Go  long,  you  old  coon!"  said  Billy,  "I  see  what 
you're  at" — intimating  that  all  this  was  merely  to  make 
the  coming  shot  the  more  remarkable — "  Daddy's  little 
boy  don't  shoot  any  thing  but  the  old  Soap-stick  here 
to-day,  I  know." 

The  judges,  I  knew,  were  becoming  impatient,  and 
witbal,  my  situation  was  growing  more  embarrassing 
every  second ;  so  I  e'en  resolved  to  try  the  Soap-stick 
without  further  parley. 


230  GEORGIA  SCENES,  &C. 

I  stept  out,  and  the  most  intense  interest  was  excited 
all  around  me,  and  it  flashed  like  electricity  around  the 
target,  as  1  judged  from  the  anxious  gaze  of  all  in  that 
direction. 

Policy  dictated  that  I  should  fire  with  a  falling  rifle, 
and  I  adopted  this  mode ;  determining  to  fire  as^soon  as 
the -sights  came  on  a  line  with  the  diamond,  bead  or  no 
bead.  Accordingly  I  commenced  lowering  old  Soap- 
stick  ;  but,  in  spite  of  all  my  muscular  powers,  she  was 
strictly  obedient  to  the  laws  of  gravitation,  and  came 
down  with  a  uniformly  accelerated  velocity.  Before  t 
<5ould  arrest  her  downward  flight,  she  had  nut  only  pass 
ed  the  target,  but  was  making  rapid  encroachments  on 
my  own  toes. 

"  Why,  he's  the  weakest  man  in  the  arms  I  ever 
seed,"  said  one  in  a  half  whisper. 

« It's  only  his  fun,"  said  Billy :  «  1  know  him." 

"  It  may  be  fun,"  said  the  other ;  "  but  it  looks  mighti 
ly  like  yearnest  to  a  man  up  a  tree." 

I  now,  of  course,  determined  to  reverse  the  mode  of 
firing,  and  put  forth  all  my  physical  energies  to  raise 
Soap-stick  to  the  mark.  The  effort  silenced  Billy,  and 
gave  tongue  to  all  his  companions.  I  had  just  strength 
enough  to  master  Soap-stick's  obstinate  proclivity,  and 
consequently  my  nerves  began  to  exhibit  palpable  signs 
of  distress  with  her  first  imperceptible  movement  up 
ward.  A  trembling  commenced  in  my  arms — increased, 
and  extended  rapidly  to  my  body  and  lower  extremities ; 
so  that  by  the  time  that  I  brought  Soap-stick  up  to  the 
mark,  1  was  shaking  from  head  to  foot,  exactly  like  a 
man  under  the  continued  action  of  a  strong  galvanic 
battery.  In  the  mean  time  my  friends  gave  vent  to  their 
feelings  freely. 

« I  swear  poin'  blank,"  said  one,  "  that  man  can't 
shoot." 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  fcC.  231 

"  He  used  to  shoot  well,"  said  another  ;  "  but  can't 
now  nor  never  could." 

"  You  better  git  away  from  'bout  that  mark  !"  bawled 
a  third,  "  for  I'll  be  dod  durned  if  Broadcloth  don't  give 
some  of  you  the  dry  gripes  if  you  stand  too  close  thare." 

"  The  stranger's  got  the peedoddles"*  said  a  fourth, 
with  humorous  gravity.  * 

"  If  ne  had  bullets  enough  in  his  gun,  he'd  shoot  a  ring 
round  the  bull's-eye  big  as  a  spinning-wheel,"  said  a  fifth. 

As  soon  as  I  found  that  Soap-stick  was  high  enough, 
(for  I  made  no  further  use  of  the  sights  than  to  ascertain 
this  fact,)  I  pulled  trigger,  and  off  she  went.  I  have  al 
ways  found  that  the  most  creditable  way  of  relieving 
myself  of  derision,  was  to  heighten  it  myself  as  much  as 
possible.  It  is  a  good  plan  in  all  circles,  but  by  far  the 
best  which  can  be  adopted  among  the  plain  rough  fann 
ers  of  the  country.  Accordingly  I  brought  old  Soap- 
stick  to  an  order,  with  an  air  of  triumph — tipt  Billy  a 
wink,  and  observed,  "  Now  Billy  's  your  time  to  make 
your  fortune — Bet  'em  two  to  one  that  I've  knocked  out 
the  cross." 

"No,  I'll  be  dod  blamed  if  I  do,"  said  Billy ;"  but  I'll 
bet  you  two  to  one  you  han't  hit  the  plank." 

"  Ah,  Billy,"  said  I,  "  1  was  joking  about  betting,  for 
I  never  bet ;  nor  would  1  have  you  to  bet :  indeed  I  do 
not  feel  exactly  right  in  shooting  for  beef;  for  it  is  a 
species  of  gaming  at  last :  but  I'll  say  this  much — if  that 
cross  is'nt  kncked  out,  I'll  ne^ver  shoot  for  beef  again  as 
long  as  I  live." 

"  By  dod,"  said  Mealy  Whitecotton,  "  you'll  lose  no 
great  things  at  that." 

*  This  word  was  entirely  new  to  me ;  but  like  most,  if  not  all 
words,  in  use  among  the  common  people,  it  is  doubtless  a  legitimate 
English  word,  or  rather  a  compound  of  two  words,  the  last  a  little 
corrupted,  and  was  very  aptly  applied  in  this  instance.  It  in  a  com 
pound  of  "»€€,"  to  peep  with  one  eye,  and  "  doddle,"  to  totter,  or 
wabble. 


232  GEORGIA    SCENES,   &C. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  I  reckon  I  know  a  little  about  wab 
bling.  Is  it  possible,  Billy,  a  man  who  shoots  as  well 
as  you  do,  never  practiced  shooting  with  the  double 
wabble  ?  It's  the  greatest  take  in,  in  the  world,  when 
you  learn  to  drive  the  cross  with  it.  Another  sort  for 
getting  bets  upon,  to  the  drop-sight,  with  a  single  wab 
ble  !  And  the  Soap-stick's  the  very  yarn  for  it." 

"  Tell  you  what,  stranger,"  said  one,  "  you're  too  hard 
for  us  all  here.  We  never  hearn  o'  that  sort  o'  shoot'n 
in  these  parts." 

"  Well,"  returned  I,  "  you've  seen  it  now,  and  I'm  the 
boy  that  can  do  it." 

The  judges  were  now  approaching  with  the  target, 
and  a  singular  combination  of  circumstances  had  kept  all 
my  party  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  result  of  my  shot. 
Those  about  the  target  had  been  prepared  by  Billy 
Curlew  for  a  great  shot  from  me  ;  their  expectations 
had  received  assurance  from  the  courtesy  which  had 
been  extended  to  me ;  and  nothing  had  happened  to  dis 
appoint  them,  but  the  single  caution  to  them  against  the 
"  dry  gripes,"  which  was  as  likely  to  have  been  given  in 
irony  as  in  earnest ;  for  my  agonies  under  the  weight  of 
the  Soap-stick,  were  either  imperceptible  to  them  at  the 
distance  of  sixty  yards,  or,  being  visible,  were  taken  as 
the  flourishes  of  an  expert  who  wished  to  "  astonish  the 
natives."  The  other  party  did  not  think  the  direction 
of  my  ball  worth  the  trouble  of  a  question;  or,  if  they 
did,  my  airs  and  harangue  hud  put  the  thought  to  flight 
before  it  was  delivered.  Consequently  they  were  all 
transfixed  with  astonishment  when  the  judges  presented 
the  target  to  them,  and  gravely  observed — "  It's  only 
second  best  after  all  the  fuss."  "Second  best!"  ex 
claimed  I,  with  uncontrollable  transports.  The  whole  of 
my  party  rushed  to  the  target  to  have  the  evidence  of 
their  senses  before  they  would  believe  the  report :  but 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  233 

most  marvellous  fortune  decreed  that  it  should  be  true. 
Their  incredulity  and  astonishment  were  most  fortunate 
for  me ;  for  they  blinded  my  hearers  to  the  real  feelings 
with  which  the  exclamation  was  uttered,  and  allowed 
me  sufficient  time  to  prepare  myself  for  making  the  best 
use  of  what  1  had  said  before,  with  a  very  different  object. 

"Second  best!"  reiterated  I,  with  an  air  of  despon 
dency,  as  the  company  turned  from  the  target  to  me. — 
"  Second  best  only  !"  Here  Billy,  my  son,  take  the  old 
Soap-stick  ;  she's  a  good  piece,  but  I'm  getting  too  old 
and  dim  sighted  to  shoot  a  rifle ;  especially  with  the 
drop-sight  and  double  wabbles. 

"  Why  good  Lord  a'mighty  !"  said  Billy,  with  a  look 
that  baffles  all  description,  "  an 't  you  driu  the  cross  !" 

"  Oh,  driv  the  cross !"  rejoined  I,  carelessly.  "  What's 
that !  Just  look  where  my  ball  is  !  I  do  believe  in  my 
soul  its  centre  is  a  full  quarter  of  inch  from  the  cross. 
I  wanted  to  lay  the  centre  of  the  bullet  upon  the  cross, 
just  as  if  you'd  put  it  there  with  your  fingers." 

Several  received  this  palaver  with  a  contemptuous 
but  very  appropriate  curl  of  the  nose  ;  and  Mealy  White- 
cotton  offered  to  bet  a  half  pint,  "  that  I  could'nt  do  the 
like  agin  with  no  sort  o'  wabbles,  he  did'nt  care  what." 
But  I  had  already  fortified  myself  on  this  quarter,  by 
my  morality.  A  decided  majority,  however,  were 
clearly  of  opinion  that  I  was  serious  ;  and  they  regard 
ed  me  as  one  of  the  wonders  ot  the  world.  Billy  increas 
ed  the  majority  by  now  coming  out  fully  with  my  history, 
as  he  had  received  it  from  his  father ;  to  which  I  listened 
with  quite  as  much  astonishment  as  any  other  one  of  his 
hearers.  He  begged  me  to  go  home  with  him  for  the 
night,  or  as  he  expressed  it,  "  to  go  home  with  him  and 
swap  lies  that  night,  and  it  should'nt  cost  me  a  cent :" 
t 


234  GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C. 

the  true  reading  of  which,  is,  that  if  I  would  go  home 
with  him,  and  give  him  the  pleasure  of  an  evening's  chat 
about  old  times,  his  house  should  be  as  free  to  me  as  my 
own.  But  I  could  not  accept  his  hospitality  without  re- 
tracing  five  or  six  miles  of  the  road  which  I  had  already 
passed  ;  and  therefore  1  declined  it. 

"  Well,  if  you  won't  go,  what  must  I  tell  the  old  wo 
man  for  you  ?  for  she'll  be  mighty  glad  to  hear  from  the 
boy  that  won  the  silk  handkerchief  for  her,  and  I  expect 
she'll  lick  me  for  not  bringing  you  home  with  me." 

"  Tell  her,"  said  I,  « that  I  send  her  a  quarter  of  beef, 
which  I  won,  as  I  did  the  handkerchief,  by  nothing  in 
the  world  but  mere  good  luck." 

"  Hold  your  jaw,  Lyman !"  said  Billy,  "  I  an't  a  gwine 
to  tell  the  old  woman  any  such  lies ;  for  she's  a  rael 
reg'lar  built  Meth'dist." 

As  I  turned  to  depart,  "  Stop  a  minute,  stranger !"  said 
one :  then  lowering  his  voice  to  a  confidential  but  dis 
tinctly  audible  tone,  "  what  you  offering  for  ?"  continued 
he.  I  assured  him  I  was  not  a  candidate  for  any  thing — f 
that  I  had  accidentally  fallen  in  with  Billy  Curlew,  who 
begged  me  to  come  with  him  to  the  shooting  match,  and 
as  it  lay  right  on  my  road,  I  had  stopped.  "  Oh,"  said 
he,  with  a  conciliatory  nod,  "  if  you're  up  for  any  thing 
you  need'nt  be  mealy-mouthed  about  it,  'fore  us  boys ; 
for  we'll  all  go  in  for  you  here  up  to  the  handle." 
"  Yes,"  said  Billy,  "  dang  old  Roper  if  we  don't  go  our 
death  for  you,  no  matter  who  offers.  If  ever  you  come 
out  for  any  thing,  Lyman,  jist  let  the  boys  of  Upper 
Hogthief  know  it,  and  they'll  go  for  you,  to  the  hilt, 
against  creation,  tit  or  no  tit,  that's  the  tatur."  I  thanked 
them  kindly,  but  repeated  my  assurances.  The  reader 


GEORGIA   SCENES,  &C.  235 

will  not  suppose  that  the  district  took  its  name  from  the 
character  of  the  inhabitants.  In  almost  every  county  hi 
the  State,  there  is  some  spot,  or  district,  which  bears  a 
contemptuous  appellation,  usually  derived  from  local 
rivalskips,  or  from  a  single  accidental  circumstance. 

HALL. 


FINIS. 


,7 


